Perish in the Name of Passion
by Liriell
Summary: Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love? HenryxAnnexCharles
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

* * *

**Prologue**:

_It was the beginning._

This was what she always thought whenever she looked at him. And in moments like these, when he was lying in his sleep, caught up in whatever dream he might be having, she could not help but feel her heart warm up at the innocence he was radiating, which was so unlike him.

It was unlike the behavior he displayed during the days. There were no childish tantrums, no unwanted and angry disputes or pouts whenever he did not get what he wanted. One could never imagine how bad his temper was by looking at this sleeping face.

It was so entirely different from what she was used to in her life, or to be more exact, in her previous life before everything changed. Before he changed everything. _He_ was different.

And she was grateful for that.

Anne smiled and bent down, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. It was a quick and soft peck, yet her lips quivered from excitement, her heart had never felt such contentment. She loved the feelings he was giving, or rather, on bestowing her, that bordered on perfection.

The more she watched him in her sleep the more she could not help but feel herself drift into her own dreams as well and her thoughts went back to the day, every piece of what she now knew and appreciated as her heaven.

_"I have one last request." she said to him. He merely looked at her from his seat, casting her nothing more but a glare, Anne imagined that he was thinking of all sort of tales of how wicked she was._

_"What is it?" he asked her suspiciously._

_"It is the same as last time."_

_"Do you care to elaborate your position, my lady? For there are so many requests and demands coming out of your mouth that my mind fails to remember each."_

_"Do not play with me, Henry! You know exactly, what I am speaking of," she put her hands on the table. Seconds passed as they looked into each other's eyes without either making a sound. "There is only one thing which is dear to me," she whispered._

_"Really? There are a lot of things that come to my mind when I think about what you might seek. Wealth, power, men-"_

_"Do not mistake your own desires for mine." she said harshly, slamming her hand down on the table that separated them from each other. Anne waited for the time to pass before speaking again, for she could barely restrain herself from shouting, let alone using physical force on him. _

_"I want Elizabeth." Her voice grew softer, almost vulnerable. This was probably the first time she ever, on her own accord, displayed all of her emotions to him. She had always been careful of how she carried herself, always making sure that she appeared strong and fierce in public, but now she was making an exception. This time, she would lay everything on the line, for she knew, holding on a strong appearance would do no one any good. It would rather be counterproductive._

_Their eyes had been locked since this conversation had began__. She waited nervously for his answer, hoping, despite knowing that hope would be in all likelihood in vain, that he would show her mercy during the last seconds of their marriage, something he had failed or perhaps forgotten along their matrimony. Finally, he stood up, her gaze still holding his._

_"No." he simply answered and departed from the room, leaving Anne all by herself. She was not quite sure how long she took to understand the meaning of his word, but when she finally did she bolted out as well, intending to find him and make another attempt of changing his mind._

_She ran to his chamber, having gained the knowledge of how his mind worked during the years they have spent together, especially after discussions such as these. And indeed, her assumption was correct as she first heard his quickened steps echoing through the halls, his back turned to her._

_"Henry, listen to me." she knew that he heard her and that he was merely ignoring her. Despite his attempts, she did not give up. She continued on and somehow she ended up in his bedroom. It was weird, she mused in the back of her mind, for she had once been a regular visitor, if not inhabitant of this room and yet, after so long, it had become so strange to her. Not to mention the dark memory of the last time she had visited this room which made her shudder._

_"Why are you being so cruel?" she asked him. He had yet to acknowledge her presence, keeping his back to her. "Henry, you are not deaf yet, so please, the least you can do is to look me into the eyes and give me a proper answer. Until then, you have to bear with me", she threatened. As it seemed her threat finally landed on fertile soil. He turned to the window, but at least she was not talking to his back only anymore._

_"You have mentioned that you wanted to start your life anew. You said you wanted nothing to do with this anymore." he touched the cool glass, tracing it with his fingers only to suddenly ball his hand to a fist, his knuckles turning white. _

_"Then why do you want to take Elizabeth?" He demanded, his hand still clinched, his jaw as well._

_"Why do you care?" she scoffed. "It is not like you spend much time with her either. All you do is let her be taught and raised by some ladies you hire. I have agreed for her to be raised that way when I was the Queen, but things have changed and so does my resolve." Perhaps she was going about it the wrong way. Perhaps it was time for different attempt._

_"I love her." she said simply._

_He was still unmoved by her words._

_"I love her more than anything else, she is the most precious and most dearest of everything I have. I have no ties with this place anymore, but Elizabeth..." She was the only pure thing in her life, she finished silently, but she doubted that this was something he wanted to hear anyway. He did not care, therefore it would change nothing it she said it anyway._

_Anne slowly went up to him._

_"In my life, I had never known so much love, never knew I was capable of so much love, until I had her. Nothing would matter, if she is not with me." She touched his arm. "Give me her. I will treat her well." Perhaps better than the other ladies, she thought bitterly, for the only thing they would fawn about would surely be the children by _that woman.

_"Please." She whispered "What do I have to do to persuade you?"_

_"What would you do?"_

_"I would do anything."_

_And before she could process what was happening, she felt her lips sealed with soft warmth. It pressed, no, pushed against her lips, with a ferocity and passion she had once deemed to be lost between them._

_Questions shot through her mind like thunders. What was happening? Was it real? What should she do now? Within seconds, she made up her mind. She closed everything, her mind and her eyes and in return opened her lips, letting him inside, one last time. But only because she had no other choice, she told herself. There would be no way for her to willingly return his kiss, she was not a weak woman, who had fallen so much in love with a man that she was not capable of sticking to her own choice and upholding her pride when it became difficult._

_Anne told herself__, it would be the last time she would feel his lips upon her. It would be the last time, she felt his passion, for that was all their relationship had ever been, and the all-consuming fire that burned the two of them. It would be the last time she felt his hands move across her skin, caressing her with such tenderness that it had once fooled her into believing an illusion of love, and his lips drawing kisses that made her melt inside and at the same time left her hot and craving for more. And it would be the last time she would enjoy all of these things._

_This she promised herself, silently in her mind, while she was crying out his name._

_It was the end._

But that is how it is; the end is always the beginning. Anne smiled tenderly. When she had once looked back to this memory with contempt and bitterness, she could now only smile and sigh. She had always thought that foolishness was below her and even though everything she ever did and shared with Henry was nothing but foolish, it had at the same time given her the best thing she had in life.

She reached her hand out, drawing small circles on his cheek. She was still awed by the softness that met her finger when she touched him. So, it was not necessary to search for his softness beneath his hotheadedness, she concluded.

Anne giggled, living the moment to the fullest.

However her amusement was short-lived, as she suddenly heard him stir. Quickly, she withdrew her hand from him, hoping that she had not woken him. When he did not give any signs of having woken up, she let out a relieved breath. He needed his sleep, especially after a tiring day like today had been, and she would feel horrible if she deprived this of him. Perhaps it was better for her to get up and leave, before she really woke him up.

As she stood over him, she could not help but lean down once again and place a goodnight kiss, this time on his forehead and a little bit longer and a little bit stronger than the previous one.

"Good night, my little Darien." she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

A/N: Thank you for your reviews and responses. I hope you like the next chapter, especially the relationship between Anne and Charles. If there are any constructive reviews or differentiating opinions, just tell me^^

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Chapter 1: Control

Anne liked to have control over the situation, preferring to know what she was getting herself into.

But she was aware that in order to have control, she needed to possess the necessary information about the situation. And thanks to her previous life at court, she had mastered the little skill she had learned during her time at the French court. The things one needed was to have eyes and ears at every corner, a basic idea of the current relationships among the place itself and then, the most important part, to know how to play your cards right.

She prided herself over this skill of hers, as she considered herself to be a great player of this game. After all, if it was not for her good judgment of the right time, who knows, perhaps she would have landed in prison, or even** six feet **under from where she was now.

"What do you mean, the Duke of Suffolk has had arrived and is waiting at the entrance for me?" Anne questioned the servant, who came rushing to her with the news.

"Well-"

"Mother, is something troubling you?" Elizabeth, sensing her mother's distress, joined the conversation.

"It is nothing." she turned to her daughter and gave her a reassuring smile, even though inside she felt anything but.

"Shall I tell the Duke of Suffolk to wait?" The servant asked.

"Charles is here?" Elizabeth questioned, her eyes brightened at the mention of the noble and Anne did not miss hearing her daughter call the very person on a very affectionate way, by referring him with his first name. What else had she miss?

Obviously, she and the Duke of Suffolk had a lot to catch up to, especially his way of dismissing her.

"Elizabeth, why do you not join your brother again? Meanwhile, I will greet the Duke of Suffolk." she proposed.

"If that is you want." she curtseyed, before turning around. Anne smiled, as she watched her children. However, a scowl appeared on her face as she remembered the situation. With a huff she made her way to greet the uninvited guest.

Who did he believe himself to be? He could not just come and go to Pembroke as he pleased. And even more, had he given permission for Elizabeth to call him by his Christian name? That would be the only logical option, since her daughter was too well-behaved to act in such a bold manner that defied every norm of their society.

But that was not the actual problem.

The actual problem was that the duke had to respect her in that he had to inform her of his actions, as well as decisions and intentions. And that included to him informing her of his visits, before he actually starts the journey, and perhaps asking her when it comes to making decisions that concerned her daughter.

Men were just so troublesome, no, not only that, they were infuriating. They were infuriatingly cocky in their belief to have the audacity to do anything as they pleased. In their mind, there were only them and the rest of the world and as long as they got what they wanted, they could disregard anything. He was not the first man with a cheeky attitude she had to deal with— actually, he was just like _that man_ she had put up with for so long, but unbeknownst to him, she would not stand for it.

"My Lord Suffolk, to what do I owe you this pleasure?" she made a grimace, as she approached him.

"Anne," he smiled and opened his arms. "What a lovely pleasure to see you again." Despite her cool and dismissive reaction to his affectionate greeting, he stepped towards her, engulfing her in his embrace.

"I have missed you." he told her. At first, she kept her silence, but after a while, she could not help but give up. With a sigh, a sign of her inner defeat and having given up on her resolve to stay firm, she returned his embrace.

"I am still mad at you." she told him.

"I know." Even though she could not see it, she could guess that he had probably wore his usual cheeky smirk on his face. She closed her eyes for one moment, letting herself enjoy the warmth she felt at being buried between his arms, amazed by the ease that swept over the over her whole body. Six years ago, she would have never expected to have anyone, any _men_, besides _him_, to be able to leave such an effect on her_, _and much less for that person to be Charles Brandon. Over the years, she had wondered whether he would become like the last man she had trusted her whole being with.

She would never allow him as much space inside her heart as she had given _him_.

"You have yet to tell me the reason for your visit." she insisted with a hard voice. She was happy to see him again, but she could just not let him go away with it.

"Why do we not take a walk in the garden?" he proposed to her. It would indeed offer a great opportunity to talk or rather for her to reprimand him the way she had actually intended to.

"The last time I heard you were at court." she began.

"I see you still have your spies everywhere." She felt slight embarrassment over his words, very much like a child, even though she had no reason to she told herself.

"It is not as though I especially inquired over your whereabouts. Word travel fast, you know that." she defended herself. "Besides, this was not my point."

"What was your point then?" he was quite amused at her attitude. To be frank, he enjoyed the view in front of him. Her regal appearance that looked so out of place in the gardens, more suiting for the halls within Whitehall Palace, and yet, with the little flustered actions that no one else would have noticed, and he himself would have too if it had been six years ago, and those amazing blue-colored eyes... Perhaps it was only him, but he could clearly see how much the life at the country had changed her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him without any restraint.

"You act as though I actually need a reason to be here."

"Don't joke around with me. You know it is not like this", she paused for a moment. "I even welcome your visits, Darien is always so ecstatic whenever you visit." Her lips formed a small smile at the mention of her son and she imagined the squeal and the happy laughter that would erupt when Elizabeth informed him about the news. Charles, knowing the reason for her smile, could not help but smile as well.

"How is he doing?" he inquired.

"Do not try to change the topic," she rebuked him.

"I was not trying to." She ignored his defensive answer.

"What I was trying to tell you is that you cannot come and go as you please. I want, no, need consistence and therefore, the last thing I need are visitors coming in unannounced or worse, if everybody starts following your example."

"Oh, come one, as if anybody would start coming up with the idea of surprising you with a spontaneous visit. It was just me. Besides, it is not as if you receive a lot of visitors."

"It changes nothing. You are under the same rule as everybody else does. You are no exception."

"Anne."

"Don't." she stopped him. "Do not come to me with this." She was aware of how dangerous this situation was becoming. Charles was about to step into a place, where limits, a lot of limits, that should not be over-crossed, that she had carefully placed in protection.

Of course, he was right. He was one of the few constant visitors, besides her sister and perhaps some others, but nevertheless, she could not and would not make an exception with him. She also knew that there are already rumors circulating of a relationship between her and Charles. Luckily, only a small region was infected by them, nothing of a great danger. But given the recent events, there was a possibility, a big one, for them to spread around and even reach the court.

She snapped out of her thoughts, her mind having registered another consequence of his careless action.

"How is Catherine doing?" she asked him, to which he shrugged his shoulder in a very brusque manner.

"How do I know?", he stated.

"I don't know, perhaps, because she is the mother of your children?" She reached a hand out, letting her fingers fly across the green wall of plants, knowing that his eyes followed her every move. She continued her walk, despite seeing Charles stop in his track during her speech. Suddenly, she felt a strong grip wrap around her wrist, turning her forcefully to him.

"You know very well that I am divorcing her." His voice sounded gruff. So, apparently Catherine was still a sore topic.

"Do I now?"

"Don't play dumb. You are one of-"

"Exactly." she spoke, as she withdrew her wrist from him. There was no hint of anger in her voice, rather, she sounded gibing. "You should not have come here. People might believe that I am the reason for you and Catherine's _outrageous _separation." He did not miss the twinkle in her eyes, when she chose her words.

"Why? Are they not true, those rumors? Then you must have surely played me for a fool." he joked. Anne regarded him for a moment, before joining his little charade.

"Oh but _Charles_," the way she spoke his name, in such an overly dramatic manner, and when she threw herself into his chest or rather ramming herself into him, since there was no other way to describe the roughness of the impact, he could not help but grin "I would never dare in my wildest dream or even believe for one second that I, the damsel in distress I am, am capable of fooling you, who has become the downfall of so many maiden." And that was when he finally began to laugh. It was not the normal and everyday laughter you encountered on streets. It was the kind of laughter you shared with friends. It was laughter from a man, who laughed from the bottom of his heart and who was finally able to feel some kind of joy after a long time of being deprived of this blessing.

"See," he said and smiled down at her. He had wrapped his arms around her, capturing her in his warm embrace and holding her tightly against his chest. "This is the reason why I came here. You make me laugh during the oddest times, even when there is nothing to laugh about," he told her, taking one strand of hair, which dangled in her face, putting it behind her ear. He squeezed her with his other arm, as he continued to speak the following words.

"You light my world up."

She returned his smile, quite reluctantly, if one might have noticed, and pushed against his chest, a sign for him to distance himself from her, at least physically. And yet, it took a few seconds before he obeyed her wish. She stepped back, taking her place next to him again, much like when they had first began to take this walk, acting as if nothing had transpired, which had thrown her head her up and down, causing a confusion inside of her that made her question the world order itself.

"Tell me, what do people whisper about me, about us?" she inquired.

"It is the same old thing."

"Let me guess, the King's Whore returns? Or better, the black witch strikes again!" she scoffed.

"Anne, let people talk. Why do they matter? They don't. At least we know-"

"Mama!" Both of them turned around, seeing a small boy running towards them and before Anne could brace herself for what was about to come, she felt a strong impact on her legs.

"Darien." She smiled down at the little boy. She picked him up, placing a soft kiss on his cheek and ruffled his hair.

Charles stood next to her, although he doubted whether it would be of any importance. He knew that when this little boy arrived at the scene, his mother would only have eyes for him and his sister of course, though the latter has yet to make her entrance. However, he could not complain, even if he wished to. He was too captivated with the scene in front of him, awed by the loving manner of the woman, he once felt nothing but contempt for, displayed.

"Darien, don't run so fast!" a light and fragile voice called out. It was a faraway voice, but Charles knew that it would not take long for her to arrive here. She was faster than most adults gave her credit for, perhaps even better than boys at her age. He should know, for he could not count the many times he had chased after her, through the long halls of Pembroke Castle or the garden and every time he caught her, he had to admit that he sometimes, ran out of breath, but only because he always granted her a great head start.

He continued to watch the little family. He noticed how Anne's face lit up, when she saw her daughter approaching. She was glowing by the time she was being surrounded by her children. Even if he was blind, he could not ignore the happiness in front of him, the laughter always rang in the air, almost like it was a part of the nature in this place.

Every now and then, Anne would find a way to show Darien some kind of physical endearment, like kissing his cheek, his forehead, ruffling his hair or poking lightly at him. She would tease him; make jokes with and about him and scold whenever he went too far. Elizabeth, with her almost nine years, joined the jokes every now and then, but Charles knew that she would rather fade into the background, leaving her brother his time to shine and thus giving him as much loving memory with their mother, as she had been denied in her younger years.

Nevertheless, it did not mean that Anne preferred her son over her daughter nor did it mean that Elizabeth was neglected. Anne loved both of them the same. She would never dare to favor one over another. She loved them merely in a different way, and perhaps this was what everyone, who did not know them and make up quick judgment without a second glance, mistook their relationship. Charles, on the other hand, being a close friend to the family of three and practically having watched Darien, as well as Elizabeth, grow up he knew for sure that Elizabeth received the same amount of love as her brother did. Just differently.

"Charles, is something wrong?" Anne asked him, having noticed his absent-minded gaze. Elizabeth and Darien looked to him.

"No, everything is fine." he reassured her, even though both of them knew that it was a lie. But for the sake of the children, Anne decided to not press further.

For that, Charles was grateful. He would not know how to explain his reasons to her, especially not in front of her children. Actually, he did not know how to explain it to her at all, not even when the children are gone.

The real reason for his visit.

He had not lied when he claimed to seek comfort in her presence, a small break from the life at court and from his wife, but that was only half of the story. The other half is a matter he has yet to realize. In his mind, he was already trying to figure out how to break this to her. And each time, looking at her and the children, their interaction, only made his heart heavier with guilt, even though he took no part in this decision.

None of them did.

It was funny. The more time he spent with Anne, the more he distanced himself from his friend. They were like night and day. They existed for the other and yet, once could only be for the night or the day. Charles had always assumed that he would side with Henry, having never been fond of Anne, or rather because of Henry, he despised her and yet, here he was, preferring to spend his time with Anne than with his best friend and almost hating the King for putting him in this delicate position.

"It is getting late. Why do we not get inside?" Anne proposed. "Elizabeth, take your brother inside. Charles and I will follow." Elizabeth nodded, obeying her mother without any complaint.

Anne smiled as she saw her children walk towards the castle, happily chatting with each other. Finally, when they disappeared from her sight, she turned to Charles. He noticed the hard look in her eyes immediately.

"There is another reason for you being here, am I right?" They starred at each other.

"What gave me away?"

"The look of guilt in your eyes, as if you were regretful of something." Anne crossed her arms, waiting for him to give her the truth.

"Look, Anne, I promise, I will tell you what is going on, however, you have to give me some time. I ..." He needed time.

Anne took his words in.

"You need time..." she repeated his words, remembering that they had always been honest with each other.

"I will tell you tonight, just... not now."

"That bad, huh?" she scoffed.

He watched her walk away.

* * *

Anne watched her children being led out of her bedchamber by a servant, getting ready for sleep. It had been a tiring day, for all of them. She chuckled, remembering how excited her son had been at the news of Brandon's arrival. He had been so enthusiastic, like he always was when the Lord announced his visits. And he stay giddy with excitement, counting the days the man, who had in some ways become his father figure, would arrive and spend time with him. But unlike his previous visits, he had not mentioned his stay in any of their letters, nor had he clarified how long his stay would be. Looking back, everything was a haze, from him coming through the gates to the evening.

Something was amiss.

She felt troubled by this realization. She felt that way since their walk at noon and it had nagged since then. No, actually, it grew even bigger. During the meal, she had listened to her children chatter happily; however, she had also noticed the solemn expression on his face. He was brooding. But over what?

Had he not promised to tell her in the evening? It was getting late and he had yet to fulfill his promise. Tomorrow is going to be another tiring day, meaning that she needed her sleep, however, at the same time she knew that she would not getting any before he would either dissolve this suspicion of her or break whatever terrible news he had to her. But no matter what, she knew anything would be better than being left in the dark, not knowing what to expect.

She sighed and was about to take a seat, when it suddenly knocked.

"Charles?"

She ran to the door.

"It's you." she whispered, after having yanked the door with full force.

He smiled at her, even if with a certain caution.

"Can I come in?"

"You do know how inappropriate this hour is, do you not?" She waited for a moment, knowing and seeing that he cared little for her words. She sighed then, giving up and took a step back and thus granting him entrance to her bedchamber.

"Please, hurry up and tell me what is bothering you. I cannot stand it." She demanded after shutting the door.

"I would rather have you sit down."

"Do not worry, I am not Catherine. I will not faint by the slightest-"

"I think you will." he encountered. She raised an eye-brow at his daring and assured statement.

"Well, we will see." she declared, not moving one bit from where she stood.

Charles sighed inwardly, resigning to the fact that, in her stubbornness, she would never comply to his advice and too proud to show any sign of weakness. The life at the country may had changed her, perhaps even softened her, but her pride was still the same.

"It is about Henry."

"What does His Majesty want?" she asked in a rush.

Charles eyed her carefully.

At first glance, she seemed to do fine, showing no sign of nervousness or any other indication that would led one to believe that they were talking about a man, who had once proclaimed his love and whole heart to her, only to discard her after few years of marriage for another and even go as far as to condemn her to death when it was convenient, but rather she reacted in a way, which could have also belonged to one of his many other subjects hearing the name of their sovereign, interested, scared a little bit, fearing for their well-being, but also as cold and indifferent, as they shared no intimate relationship.

But Charles always possessed a sharp eye when it came to people who were dear to him. He could see that she had stiffened for a moment, when he first mentioned the king, how she bit into her lips a little bit and especially, he saw how her eyes moved around the room, when she assumed that he was not watching her. They were almost like a prey, expecting to be caught any time. They were worried. Her eyes told the truth.

When he named his name, her eyes had widened, having recognized the name she, as he assumed, used to scream countless times in the throes of passion. When she spoke of him herself, she had averted her eyes, probably not wanting him to see a flicker of sadness. And now that she was waiting for him to answer her question, and as he looked into her eyes, taking notice of her softened, even by only a little, look in her eyes, and a tad of fear, because she _knew_ that he was nothing but trouble. Because she was his ex-wife.

"His Majesty requests your presence at court."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

* * *

Chapter 2: Changing Times

* * *

"His Majesty is requesting my presence..." she repeated the words.

It sounded so hallow, almost like a child not aware of what is meant by that and only spoke what it had heard.

"What..."

"Anne, I know, it might come to you -"

"Don't." she cut in. "Don't say anything, please." She turned her head away from him. Charles watched her, while both let themselves be swallowed by an eerie silence. He could only see her half-turned figure and yet, he had to admit, under the dim illuminated light of the candles, with those dark long tresses, she appeared ... dare he say... ethereal? Like an angel... a broken one.

"Why?" she finally asked, falling dejected onto her bed.

Charles wanted to comfort Anne, tell her anything that would make the dead, pain filled eyes sparkle again with her natural contentment. Something that he tried so hard to keep in her through all that she had been through. But there was nothing, nothing that would not be short of a lie, and it would be even worse if he began to lie to her now, for she could easily detect his lies, hell, even the most uneducated person, with the smallest common sense could. And in the end, her despair would only grow.

And so, he said nothing. Instead, he sat down next to her, putting one hand on her shoulder.

"I am here for you."

This was the only solace he could offer her.

Instead of pushing him away, as she would usually do if he overstepped the boundaries and into an area which she considered to be inappropriate and far too intimate to be shared between friends, she put her hand over his chest and leaned into him.

"Thank you." she mumbled, letting herself, for one small moment, to be embraced and comforted by someone other than her own person, despite her reasonable mind and the defense force she had created since _him_, knowing better than that.

"Charles, please, answer me honestly, spare me any lies." she asked of him.

"What is it?"

"Why? Why now? Up until now, he had never wanted ... He had always tried to avoid me..." There had been no length Henry would not have gone, just to get her away from him. He had put her in the farthest corner of England, just so he would never see her again and now, suddenly, he asks for her to come to court?

"That is not true, Anne, do you not remember?" he countered. "This had happened once already." he reminded her. "It was only shortly after your divorce of the King, when he sent me here to collect you to court. It was the first time when we saw each other again." he smiled at the memory, just as Anne did.

"Yes, how can I have forgotten? I still recall the face when you saw first saw me and even more, the surprise on your face, after finally learning the truth behind my state."

Suddenly something clicked inside her head.

"Back then, it was... the -"

"It was when she was pregnant." he completed her sentence.

Yes, she remembered. Charles was supposed to bring her back to court, in order to show people the amity and the absence of ill-feelings among the royal house. She was quite lucky in the circumstances, as she was already heavily pregnant at the time and Charles, having enough sense to realize how inappropriate, insensitive and most important, inconvenient it would be bring Anne back.

"She is pregnant again." Anne concluded. He nodded. "And this the sole reason he..." again, he confirmed her thought by a nod.

"I see."

She did not wonder when Charles had actually put his other arm around her or why she had not noticed how he was actually hugging and pressing her into his lean chest.

"The same reason as always, I suppose."

"It is even more important now than that time. You do realize how your popularity had grown during this span, back then, it was only a nice gesture, but now it has become a necessity and Henry would not accept a no this time. He had already been suspicious when I claimed you were too ill to come, but since our feelings were still ill ones, he had not bothered to doubt the sincerity behind then, now however ..."

Like Anne had already mention earlier, rumors were flying around of them being together, there were accusations whispered among the court of being involved in an affair and surely, Henry had heard of them as well.

"Why exactly has it become necessary?"

"You know the answer, Anne. I am sure you still have your spies in the court, people, maid, who are still loyal to their mistress."

"I have severed all ties to that place when I settled on a life on the country side." Despite her firm voice and strong voice, he doubted her words, but he decided to not elaborate this topic. Instead he carried on.

"The child they conceived," and no, he had not seen the way she flinched when he mentioned the words and it was not as though he had purposely chosen the vague description, since he had not seen how she still flinched at the name, no matter how much time had already passed since the birth, either. "Is very ill. The people are growing relentless over their constant fear of losing him. This instability over the future is almost like there was no heir apparent, along with yours and Elizabeth's growing popularity."

"I thought you said he was very healthy."

"In the beginning, he was… but then he caught a sickness and since then, his health had been deteriorating." Charles explained to her "They consider the Crown Prince as an inappropriate choice."

"And what does this have to do with me?" She asked, bewildered.

"Perhaps Henry hoped that your attendance will show the people your benevolence towards their marriage."

"You said perhaps, why the insecurity? Are you not his best friend? The one, who is supposed to know his every thought?" she wondered.

"I thought so, too. But lately," actually, it had been so for a long time. "I came to doubt this. Looking back, I realize that there are a lot of decisions he had made that I do not understand or rather, can understand no longer but perhaps had done a time."

"What are these decisions?" she continued prying. Charles looked at her and gave her a wry, maybe even knowing smile, instead of an answer. And somehow, by seeing this, Anne no longer felt the curiosity to know the answer anymore; rather she preferred to have his answer unsaid.

But well, at least he was able to distract her a little bit and therefore, Charles still smiled.

"So, what would the consequence be, if you were to arrive without me back to court?" she asked.

"You do not want to come?"

"Why are you sounding surprised, after all the reasons for me not to go there are quite obvious were they not?"

Charles smirked and Anne could guess it was because he knew. She had been indeed tempted to go, after hearing him telling her the reasons. She had never believed there would be a time when Henry _and_ her, would need her. It felt so good to know that he was dependent on her. And she wanted expand this. Imagine what the folks would think if she were to, with her head held high and her prideful and playful smirking smile, wish them congratulations. It would show everyone that she was the better person. And to Henry, it would show him what mistake it was to leave her.

"I would rather stay here." she admitted.

Those were all the things the old her would have wanted. The malicious glee, the desire for superiority, the untamable urge for revenge and hurting everyone… If she wanted to show them she was better than them, she had to grow first and by desiring what she had earlier thought would rather be steps backwards.

"But it is not as though you have a choice."

"It is not as though he would order my death sentence if I claimed to be ill, either."

The Duke suspected it.

"Maybe not, but there are other things he can do. You know better than anyone else that Henry possesses this disgusting compulsion to control everything and if he does not get it, the person will be punished." No matter how blameless the person actually is, and no matter how innocent, this compulsion could turn peace into trouble and out of an innocent man and woman a guilty one, Charles thought to quietly.

"And worse, he could even come here himself." The very thought that the King himself arriving to some far corner of his country, just to retrieve his subject to the court, would be inconceivable in every other country, but this was Henry the VIII. He was unreasonable, he was irrational, his actions were beyond comprehension and when concerning Anne, those words would not even suffice to describe his insanity, other than that.

Insanity…

"He has changed." Anne argued, being able to guess his line of thoughts.

"I would not be so sure." he smiled wryly. She looked quizzical at him.

"What do you mean?"

She would never understand, he knew. But he, who had always been near Henry and who had known him far longer, and perhaps, if he dare to say, better than the most anyone else, that his relationship with Anne was more than just a flirt. Their relationship was much deeper, much more complicated and, if he was asked, more sickening to their mental health than anything else he had seen.

And even though they were divorced, even though they claimed to hate each other, at least from Henry's side, for he was not sure whether Anne actually believed in the falsity of her words as Henry did, Charles was and will always be the one, who viewed the truth with clarity. It was possible for them to possess no longer loving feelings for each other, it was also possible that there was not amicable relationship between them, but he would never believe that there were **no** feelings at all.

That was plain impossible.

They had once loved each other with a passion that goes, even now, beyond comprehension, boundaries, imagined and actual, and it even fought and won against all possible contradictions of the world. A love like this does not go away so simply. Sad No, perhaps it would be even better if it was to vanish silently, but those two were just not the kind of persons to retreat soundlessly. They were far too violent and attention-loving.

The saddest thing was that their love had turned into hate.

Or rather, it continued to live, just in disguise of hatred, because it knew that it would not survive in the daylight. It was never allowed to see the daylight again. And frankly, Charles was more than glad about this and silently, he prayed that it would stay this way.

"But you know the consequences if he were to appear here." He could see what he had been deprived of for six years and surely, then there will nothing that can hold him back.

And Anne was aware of that.

She knew that there was no other choice for her but to go. It was not fair, she thought, that she had always to be the one to leave the place where her heart actually resided. Why does he always have to rip her heart away so violently, leave her with no possibility to breathe?

"I am sorry." She whipped her head into his direction.

"There is no reason for you to be sorry." She replied.

"There is," he argued. "I should have tried to persuade him to let it go, to make him change his mind. I should have done everything necessary to protect you." But what if she did not want for him to do everything possible to protect her? What if-?

"The only thing a man needs to protect is what is his." And she was not his.

"But you are my _friend_, are you not?"

"He is your **best** friend."

"No." he disagreed "You are." She ripped her hand away from his almost as if his hands were burning, whereas in fact only his words did.

"It would be wiser for you to stand by him." she stated.

"But what if I do not want to?" She pretended to have not heard him. That was fine with him. She was after all, a master in pretending, almost as good as Henry and perhaps, just like Henry, she would come to believe what she pretended was actual. And like his friends, he would also pretend.

* * *

Change is never easy, you fight to hold on, and you fight to let go. - Wonder Years


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

**A/N:** I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for your reviews. I am glad that the Charles and Anne situation was positively received, because there are going to be a few more during the course of the story. If there are any of you, who have certain** preferences **or** wishes, ideas or maybe even quotes you like to see, **feel free to** express** them, although I cannot promise that I am going to be able to weave them into my story. But maybe some of them might even inspire me. I am open for everything^^.

** Lady Isabelle: **No, Darien is not Charles' son, although it would have been a very interesting idea. I even considered playing a little bit with this one, but well, that was not what I had actually planned. :)

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

From the moment when they departed from Pembroke Castle, Anne had done nothing else other than stare outside of the carriage. No matter the bump or jump from it, she did not seem to notice it or she was just not fazed by it. Charles sat beside her and every now and then, he would throw a worried glance to her. And either way, just like with the bumps, she did not care if she did not notice. This continued for the whole ride to London, and it was not until it was mere hours before the arrived at the court that Charles began to speak up.

"Anne, are you alright?"

"What else do you think, Charles? I am forced to go to places, where I know I am not wished and actually do not even want to be at because of the bad memories and yet, I have no other choice." Not to mention the children she had to leave behind in Pembroke. Her heart already yearned for them, for Pembroke. For peace.

"You can always depend on me." He assured her and squeezed her hand. Anne regarded him for a moment.

"That is very obliging of you, but-" and she withdrew her hands. "I am capable of taking care of myself. I always did." With that she turned away from him. Charles grimaced. He knew he should feel insulted, if not hurt, by her actions, but somehow, after such a long time getting to know her and actually knowing her, he could hardly blame her.

However, he could not blame himself either.

"It is a shame that Elizabeth could not come along with us." he mentioned.

"Yes, indeed it is." she agreed with a faraway sigh. "But perhaps it is better this way. After all, Darien, no matter how mature he seems for his age, still needs someone to look after and talk to him, when he is acting out."

"They are great children, Anne. You have done a wonderful job at raising them and I am sure they know how much you love them."

"Thank you." Anne, for the first time, since they left for London, flashed him a sincere smile. He returned it, knowing that the children were her weakness.

"But let us not talk about my children." Anne interrupted. "What about yours. If I am not mistaken, your boy is almost the same age as my daughter. Tell me, how is he faring? Is he growing into the same strong man as his father? But I hope not as ... passionate as you had been, this would be a shame, since I had hoped to introduce my Elizabeth to him." Anne joked.

"He is a good boy." Charles replied.

"Why the distant tone? Has something happened?" she inquired.

"It's..." he broke his sentence, which she found weird. Their children had always been the easiest topic between them, much more than the weather, not to mention more interesting. In fact, this topic had been the first one they shared without any hostility. But something was different. There was something that kept Charles from speaking truthfully and she wondered what it was.

"Has it something to do with Catherine?" she suspected. The only response she received was a small sigh, but this was indication enough to confirm her suspicion. This time, it was her that put her hand on his. "You know that you can tell me everything, do you not?"

"I am not even sure myself what this is." he explained. "Besides, I do not want to bore you."

"You can never bore me." she insisted. "Also, this might keep me distracted and is that not want you wanted?" When he turned to look at her, he saw her flashing him an assuring smile.

"Fine, but only because it is you. But before I begin, I would like to say that this is not as bad as you make it appears. It is a merely an unpleasant situation for me right now. I guess, it all began when Catherine and I decided to separate board and bed." This sounded so wrong. It made the impression that they suddenly decided to not love each other anymore, because this was not the case. It began so slowly. At first, and he did not even know when, he and Catherine started to talk less with each other and perhaps not each day, but surely their conversations began to shrink little by little and it did not help that he got busier as well. And then, at some time, it went beyond the lack of conversations, they saw each other less until it came to the point when they intentionally avoided each other and not far too long after that, she began to hate him, well at least in his perspective.

"Parenting is not easy."

"Especially if there is a divorce on the way," Anne added knowingly.

"What would you know about it?" Charles implied curiously. Most people would have felt insulted by his choice of words, most people would have not even chosen those words and if it had been anyone, then Anne would have taken it as an insult, but it was not anyone. It was not even like he was wrong, because Anne herself had admitted that before the divorce she had never taken care of her daughter like she should have.

"No, you are right. However, this does not mean that it had been easy for me or for Elizabeth." Her short answer was followed by a long period of silence. Anne meanwhile looking out of the window, enjoying the view of the rural England she had loved to adore and appreciate and knowing she would not see it for a long time. She already missed her privacy.

"There is nothing you have to fear." he assured her.

"How can you be so sure? You, out of so many, know very well how ever-changing he is. Last time, I barely escaped with my life." she whispered.

Charles wondered, when he finally noticed that he and his wife were growing apart, he had tried to repair the damage. It was just far too big and there were not enough seams to mend the wound. However, he remembered a conversation, or more like an argument between them.

_"Just because you tried does not mean that you wanted to, Charles!"_

"Are you mad at me?" he asked Anne and just as sudden as this question was, as surprised was she.

"For what?"

There are many things he thought he had done that deserved her anger, her resentment and rightful blame. Almost so many that he could not list it nor does he want to, because it was alright to list it in his head but to voice it out loud would mean he accepted them. But his worst fear was ...

"Do you think she blames me?"

"At the beginning there is always blame." she replied, although admittedly not quite sure what to make of from his questions.

"Do you still blame him?" he continued asking and he was just as confused as her, since he did not know what kind of questions he was making either nor what he intended to know.

Anne thus remained silent.

* * *

"Your majesty, I don't understand." Jane's lips quivered.

"And there is no need for you to." Henry shrugged her off, while taking one sip of his cup.

"But your majesty-"

"Enough!" Henry frowned. It was not his intention to raise his voice, but he could not help it. He was just as pleased at having to deal with the Duchess of Pembroke as Jane was, but that was for the best. Yet, even though he knew that this visit was one of convenience, he still felt unnerved by it, he had been since he had sent Charles away to Pembroke and now since he had decided to leave this matter be, his wife decided to remind him again. "There is no need for you to meddle in my affairs, madam. I know what I am doing and I would prefer if you quit acting like you know it better than me."

"I never wanted to..." Jane whispered and averted her eyes. Henry sighed.

"I know, sweetheart." He placed a kiss on her temple placidly, putting his hands on her waist, the place soon to be obvious of carrying his child. "It is all well, as long as you stay out of the state's business."

Jane nodded obediently.

"Very well then, you must excuse me. There are affairs I have to attend to. You should go as well and prepare for their arrival. I have heard that they are to appear at the afternoon." With that said he stood up and left. And Jane, like the obedient wife she was, believed and obeyed her husband's words. She did not even doubt him, when he claimed to have an important affair, like his previous wives did before. But in fact, it had not even been a lie on his part for it was indeed an important affair... with Anne Basset, one of her ladies in waiting.

* * *

Charles remembered the first time he had seen her again, after she and Henry went separate ways. He still recalled the glee he had felt over seeing her, wanting to parade around her in his best friend's place to throw the fortune Henry and Jane shared in her face. And he remembered how all these intentions were thrown overboard at the mere sight of her at the staircase, the round and apparently heavily pregnant belly in her hand.

_Thomas Cranmer was standing next to him. There was no need for Charles to turn around and confirm the shocked expression, he was sure of it, because in a situation such as this, there was no room left for any other reaction than shock, he included. After days of delaying her presence, they finally got to see her. In that instant, Charles threw away any questions and accusations he had made in his mind about why she never attended them herself, for the answer was visibly clear and there was no need for it to be spoken out anymore._

_"Gentlemen," Anne continued to go down the staircase. Charles had to note that even though she was heavily pregnant she strolled down with a grace that, as unwilling he was to admit, the recent Queen lacked. "I hope you do not expect me to claim that your visit is a pleasant affair for me, for then I would be lying and lying is something you do not commit towards your guest, as unwanted as they are."_

_Her tongue seemed to have loosened during this period. During her regency she would have never dared to say anything like this, in fear of angering someone or worse, angering Henry. But it reminded him of the Anne before she became Queen, when she was presumptuous and daring, because she had the devoted love of the King._

_"Your -, my lady, I-" She waved with a hand to stop Cranmer._

_"There is no need for you to beat around the bush. Just tell me the reason why you came here, since you refused to inform my servants." Charles wanted to remind her that she was no longer a Queen, so thus she had no right in dismissing Cranmer in the manner she had done, however he guessed that Cranmer did not care nor would it change anything. Old habits die hard._

_"Can you not guess?" he asked instead. Anne glared at him with blazing eyes. It seems that for old sentiments it goes the same._

_"I do not possess the ability to look into the future."_

_"Really? The rumors beg to differ", he countered with a smirk. And there he thought that the fire behind her eyes could not get more hateful. He supposed that if she was truly a witch then surely he would be turned into ashes right now, if not for her look._

_Anne set to bid another snarky comment or answer, if she would not have been interrupted by Cranmer, who finally gave her the answer she sought at first._

_"His majesty had sent us to you, Lady Anne. He... seeks your presence in the court..." He trailed off, hoping that these few words were enough for her._

_"And for what reasons does his majesty want to see me? From how things were when we parted, I assumed he never wanted to see my face again, if he had not even said so himself."_

_"His majesty does not need to justify his actions towards anyone." Much less you; that was what he wanted to add, but from the looks of it, she heard them in his unused voice._

_"Well, then as much as I regret, I ask for pardon for the both of you, as you traveled this far just for me to tell you no, since I will not attend his majesty at court."_

_"You are refusing?!"_

_"That is exactly what I had said, your grace." Anne replied with a calm voice._

_"You know very well that his majesty will not be pleased about your answer. So are you doing this, because you are plain stupid or naive enough to believe you could gain his attention?"_

_"I have put up with his displeasure of me for years; I think I can manage this time."_

_"Lady Anne, you do not understand the situation-"Cramer started but Anne interrupted him._

_"Oh, Master Cranmer, I understand the situation very well. The people are displeased with his majesty and some even about his marriage with..." Anne threw a quick glance at Charles. "the _Queen_ Jane and for some reason, he or his courtiers or advisers, believe it might be a great idea to invite me over to show ... what exactly? Harmony, concord, unity? Who does he want to fool? If he intends to amuse the people, he should hire a jester, but should he refrain from asking me to play one for him. Those times are over."_

_"Are you sure that there are no other motives?" Charles asked, his eyes motioning towards her belly._

_"Your Grace", Anne said with a suppressed voice "I will not be moved by your attempt of persuasion, which I may add are very unconvincingly weak, how you get the women to grace your bed is beyond me."_

_"Please, Anne, there is no need for you to act coy and shy. Everyone knows you are a whore, it would not be surprising-"_

_Somehow, the look with which she glared at him was different from any other he had seen before. If he had a moment to think about it, then he would have realized that those glares before were with tolerance. She had tolerated his crude and snarky comments, with disdain and hate, but she accepted them. This one however... it was different. There was something else that made him stop. It made him shut up instantly._

_"You know nothing, Brandon", she hissed with a dark whisper. Anne turned around, letting her two guests watch her climb up the staircase. They probably knew better than try to move her, knowing what a stubborn person she could be. Yet, before she set her foot on the last stair, she halted for a second._

_"You know, you can assume whatever you want of me." She tilted her head slightly, looking right into Charles's eyes. "But we all know I never betrayed him... or us." _

_Leave it to Anne Boleyn, former Queen of England to know make an impressive grand departure._

_"What do we do now?" The Archbishop asked him after some while._

_"I don't know."_

_But what he does know is that they are having a big problem, one which seemed to arrive very soon in the world._

* * *

"He prepared you your own apartment for your stay."

"How generous and attentive of him." This was the least she could expect after being forced to abandon the place where she built her own home at for a place where she was ogled and judged like she was some kind of jester or animal to be paraded around. "I must admit I am surprised how well it looks." Anne eyed her surrounding with an assessing look.

"Lady Anne", Charles noted that Anne's whole stature changed at a sudden. "I hope everything is to your pleasure." Henry entered the room and greeted them with a smile.

It was the first time they saw each other again, since their official separation. It was uncomfortable, at least for everyone witnessing this scene. If this was in any form uncomfortable or inconvenient in any form, their faces did not betray their emotions. Both were regal and cool, standing up and facing each other with a benevolent smile that might be not as benevolent as it was appeared, no one knew.

"As I have already informed the Duke of Suffolk, I am surprised, quite positively how amazed I am. I had not expected you to lavish me with luxury, but this..." She looked around her demonstratively. "You should not have made such uproar just to attend _me,_ since you are already so busy with having all the royal duties done by yourself."

Henry merely grimaced at her comment.

"I like it this way, so I can oversee everything. It is better than left being in the dark, since you don't know who to trust."

"From the way you talk, I presume that you have found somebody with whom you can share your important duties with."

"Jane is more than pleasing for not only me and my health. She eases me. I have grown up a lot."

"Your majesty, those are wonderful news. I am really glad to hear them, but I must say it is not surprising, since I knew you would be put with a lot of responsibilities on your own." Anne gave him a radiantly cool smile. "Why do we not sit down for a while to catch up? Surely, you have a lot of things to tell me, it must be hard to deal with all those responsibilities all on your own, while I cannot wait to share with you the information of Elizabeth."

"Yes, why not?" Henry looked towards the servants and some of his courtiers. Damn, he had forgotten their presence all at once. "Leave." He waved with his hands, dismissing everyone. Without a word, everyone scrambled whatever they needed together and huddled out of the room without a second glance. All with the exception of the Duke of Suffolk.

"My King," he began suavely, "I am not sure whether it is such a good idea. Perhaps it is better for the Lady Anne if she was given more time to adjust to her new surroundings."

"I see no use why so. Lady Anne was never someone to forget something easily and I doubt she would forget this place so fast."

"You are right Your Majesty, of course you are, however, it is nonetheless almost six years and Anne had told me herself that Pembroke, with its serene and welcoming atmosphere, was so appealing that it was just too easy to get used to it and thus is was the only home she had known for those six years."

"What do you think, Anne?" It was a mocking question. Anne decided to reply nevertheless.

"Well-"

"Besides it was a very tiring trip from Pembroke and although Lady Anne, the polite and considerate I know her to be, did not voice it out loud, she must be immensely tired, since she could not find sleep during this dreadful trip. Is it not much more pleasant if she recovered before she and your Majesty engage in a conversation?" Charles proposed. All this while, with Anne having no comprehension as to what her companion was intending, she was looking at him with a questioning look.

Henry turned around, facing Anne.

"And what do you think, my Lady?"

Anne looked between him and Charles. It was now his turn to shoot her with a questioning glare that told her as much as, what are you doing? Along with the demand to accept his... whatever he was trying to pull.

She continued to switch between her ex-husband and the one she grew close to as a friend, and nothing more.

"It is as Charles said..." she replied slowly, not pulling her eyes from Charles form. "I am very sorry, my King." With a quick smile, she turned towards Henry. "I did not mean to hospitality with my own needs, but it seems that nothing escaped from his eyes. Again, I am very sorry."

"It is no problem, my Lady." Henry assured, seemingly to have accepted Anne's choice. Anne was ready to curtsy, she had already lowered her head and so she did not notice that Henry had gotten so close to her. She felt his arms wrap around her frame, whispering, "Maybe it is not necessary, but still, I did not come here to feud with you."

"What the hell was that supposed to be?" Charles questioned, after Henry had retreated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

**A/N: **Well, this is my favorite chapter up until now, okay maybe besides the upcoming one, but this one is still high in my list. I hope and even can imagine that you would love it as well, especially for those, who had been thirsting after more Henry and Anne scenes. Well, I can just hope that your thirst is a little bit satisfied by this chap^^

* * *

Chapter 4:

"Okay, tell me, what was that supposed to be?" Charles asked right after he was sure that Henry was out of hearing. **  
**

"I don't know what you mean and by the way, I could ask you the same thing." It was not like she was not tired and sure, she would have enjoyed a small nap or at least some relaxing moments, however, she was not in dire need to enjoy them. She would have coped without them, on the contrary to what Charles had implied. "Why are you so furious?"

"I am not!"

"Of course, why else would you be screaming at me?" Apparently, this argument was convincing enough to make him see reason, as he did not reply. "Charles, what is going on?" Anne asked, her hand reaching for his arm. He wondered whether she knew how soothing it was to him.

"This was the question I asked you", he muttered beneath his breath.

"I still do not know what you mean."

"Do you not? Damn it, Anne, do you know how worried I was for you, how confused I was in that second?" He pushed her hand away; instead he took her whole frame in his arms. He could not explain it himself, but in that moment, something inside his heart had set off, due to shock or something else, he did not know.

"I still don't understand, Henry and I-"

"It is his Majesty."

"His Majesty and I-"

"Don't."

"And what is your problem with **that**?"

"It's you?"

"What about me?" she asked.

"It's him."

"Is it him or me now?"

"Both. But more importantly, it's you! It's you and him!"

"Charles, you are losing me, not that I understand at all, but..." Anne rubbed her temples. If Henry had intended for her to relax, then maybe it would have been better if he had stayed.

"Anne, a lot has changed. You know nothing stays the same and-"

"I know that very well." She felt irritated at Charles lecturing her like a child. She had not even lectured Elizabeth in such a manner, not that her fine daughter needed any.

"Do you? Because from seeing the two of you and how you acted, I got the impression that you don't, that neither of you does." The more they talked, the more he got shirty. "You were not the one who had to witness you two flirt with each other", he muttered.

"We were not flirting!" Anne defended herself.

"Of course you were. Do not deny it. Everyone else in the room that witnessed your exchange of words would have indicated it as such. If you do not believe me, then you might go out and ask those servants. I bet to you that they would all agree with me."

"I don't care for what those servants tell me." She doubted that they had the appropriate capability to judge her. "Besides, it might have escaped me, but I never knew that flirting means to go at each other's throat in a discernible and hidden behind double meanings battle at surpassing each other's wit."

No, perhaps it was not. At least for normal people, but Anne and Henry were not normal people. The one was born as a prince, but always possessed a pride far above of what was appropriate for his station and gained even more during his Kingship, the other was far or less a commoner having rose to the Queen of one of the greatest nations. And if it had been any other, with whom they competed, they would have felt insulted.

"You don't understand," he gritted his teeth.

The thing is that since it was the prince, who became a King and the commoner girl, who rose to be his Queen, and not anybody else, this fight was like the coupling between animals. Competing with each other to see who was more worthy, to display dominance and he knew that this act or race for dominance was like or even is adding fuel to the fire.

He could explain all this to her, but he knew it would be fruitless.

"What do I not understand?" Charles wondered whether she was pretending to not know. Anne was such a smart person, her intelligence easily rivaling any man at court and yet, she was so obvious when it came to Henry.

"Just don't get too close to him, never be in his presence when I am not near and please," his eyes were begging her. "Do not pull any stunts like that from before again."

"Charles-" Anne called after him, even after she knew he was out of hearing, since she guessed that he was running away from her. For a second, she had contemplated whether she should run after him, to calm him down, to try to fix whatever misunderstanding that occurred, but she rejected that thought. She had sworn to herself to never run after any men, ever again and sadly, Charles was no exception.

* * *

Charles ran past the servants, not caring for any appearance. His emotions were in disarray. He probably should not have been so angry with her, he should have tried to explain his point of view to her, in a gentle and understanding way, even if there was no way he could understand it.

Because this was the thing.

He could not understand how she could let herself go like that. Anne was the most collected person when time called for it he knew and yet, it was so easy for Henry to get the best of her and the other way around.

It was just so infuriating.

Charles took a deep breath, whiles trying to slow down his pace. At some point, he was standing still with his head in his hands and, following a deep sigh, he leaned against the wall in an attempt to cool down. He did not why, but whatever concerning Anne and Henry made him furious, it made him lose his mind in a way no one could be proud of. This knowledge made everything even more frustrating, as he knew that especially now he needed to stay calm, because Henry and Anne would not be, at least when they were together. Sadly, the latter was bound to happen, more than he, maybe even all three of them, would have liked it.

"The Queen!"

Instantly, Charles pulled himself from the wall, standing straight and proper. It did not take long for Jane to arrive. Charles bowed down as it was due to a Queen; however, he still wondered why she was here.

"My Queen", he greeted.

"Your Grace, please rise", she sent him an honestly benevolent smile, one unlike the ones he had witnessed moments ago. "How long have you been here?"

"I arrived not long ago." She must knew that he was sent by Henry to retrieve Anne. "I was sent to escort the Marquess of Pembroke."

"Ah, his Majesty told me so. I hope it was an enjoyable ride." Charles furrowed his brow at the choice of her words. He replied nevertheless.

"The Marquess of Pembroke proved to be an enjoyable companion, however due to the long period it took to arrive here, we both are very tired", he explained. He could guess the reason why the Queen was in this certain apartment.

"What a coincidence. I was on my way to her."

And this just proved him right.

"I doubt that this is a good idea." Charles spoke, just as Jane wanted to pass him by.

"And why not?" she inquired.

"His majesty had already visited us, the Marquess and me, however, due to the tiredness of her ladyship, he had to part earlier than he intended. Thus he ordered for her ladyship to recover from the trip at first," he explained. He knew that he could have made it short, however he wanted to prevent the confrontation between those two women as much as possible. Of course, he was aware of the fact that they would have to encounter each other sooner or later, there was no going around about this, however, if he had a choice, he would prefer the latter, and even more when Henry was around. At least that would ensure a more or less peaceful conversation.

Surely, Anne would try to be serene as she could be, but it was so easy to push her over the edge. Charles knew it too well and he knew as well that when it comes down to Jane, whom Anne considered beneath her and yet, who was able to enjoy victory over her defeat, was a sore point for Anne. He guessed that it was her female pride. It did not help that just recently he and Anne had an almost argument, because Charles would never admit that between there were arguments possible between him and Anne, thus meaning that Anne was quite inflammable.

"But it is my duty as a queen to greet my guests." Jane insisted and Charles could not help but roll his eyes.

Jane was trying to be polite. She knew that she owed a lot to the Duke of Suffolk, that if it had not been him then she would not be the person she was now. Without him, the man who claimed to be the best friend of the King, she would never have had the chance to capture his Majesty's attention. Additionally she knew how much he had despised the harlot. Therefor she refused to believe that this honorable man would have any relations with that witch, as rumors claimed.

"My Queen, I advise you to stay out of this." It was more for her sake, than for Anne's. Jane, as nice as she was, would never be able to compete against Anne. It was a wonder that she had managed to snatch Henry from Anne's grasps, but he guessed that it was more thanks to her family's effort than her own and pure, very pure nature and a lot of luck.

"I do not need your advice." She was becoming haughtier, Charles noted.

"It is only for your own good." No one would have ever dared to talk to a royal in such a manner. A rudeness such as his, might it be even only an ounce of what he displayed to Jane today, would have usually cost someone his head. But this was not a usual situation, he thought. Jane was not the usual queen. Queens were supposed to be regal, full of pride and wit and eloquence, so that no matter what protocol demanded, she would still find a way to get her way through the proper conduct. Jane did not display the pride, or at least if she did, it was in the wrong way.

He wondered why he had never noticed it before, or perhaps at the time it did not seem to be of importance. What mattered anyway was that now Charles realized that Jane did not have what it took to be the wife of a monarch. He had thought of it before, when comparing Anne to her, but now, it was in full exposure in front of him.

Anne had possessed... something.

She may have not been raised to be queen, not taught the rules of proper conduct at a young age, but she had learned fast and most of her mistakes, she had found a way to cover them with charm and... just her. He had no idea what it was, but whatever she did, whatever mistake it was, it just seemed to be right. Jane just seemed... wrong.

"Besides, I doubt that his Majesty would be pleased if I were to tell him that his wife had decided to bother the guest he spent so much effort in her feel welcomed. He had requested the Lady Anne to recover from the exhausting trip and to later meet up with him."

He smirked slightly, not that she would have noticed. Even though his head was bowed down, he knew that Jane had flinched at Henry's mention. Different to Anne, Jane was not allowed or even forbidden from meddling in his Majesty's affairs. He would be angry to learn that his obedient wife had decided to overlook him and in his eyes, it would be nothing short of questioning his authority. They were both aware of that.

"Very well." Jane then countered, accepting or not so much, her defeat. "Then I guess, I will see the _Lady_ Anne, when she has recovered. I will greet her at my husband's side." She could not help but mention the last sentence, in remembrance of her overprotective side as a woman. She turned around, with her whole female entourage, however, she could not help but whisper her last words to him, in hope he saw reason.

"You have changed, Charles." She wondered what had happened to the man, who had despised or even hated the harlot, the woman who he had just defended. She shook her head in disappointment.

With that she turned around and, as much as Charles would have liked to say, retreated, there was nothing demure or submissive or even elegant at her walk. Charles watched her disappear.

* * *

Anne was lying on the grand bed. There was no sheet covering her and she was still in her daily attire. She had not bothered to change, because she knew that sleep would refuse to come over her. So instead she was lying in her bed and... stared. She stared at the ceiling when she was lying, she stared left and right whenever she turned around in vain hope that she might catch up some relaxing time. But again, it was vain hope.

She knew she needed to rest. She needed every bit of energy she had to face Henry and his wife. Hell, it took her already that much energy to call her in such a respectful manner, well it was as respectful as Anne could push herself to behave. She doubted that there would ever be a time when she would stay on neutral grounds with that woman.

The Marquess let out a deep sigh and turned around again. See, she had not even intended to waste her thoughts on them and yet, one small one was enough to put her into a tirade. All the time she tried to tell herself that it would be over soon, the banquets, the balls, every feast and every time she had to encounter one of those stupid and stupidly fake courtiers, when she had to smile back when all she wanted was just to turn around and run back to Pembroke, they would all be over soon. Soon, she would be able to return to her own little paradise in Pembroke, with all the persons she loved and cared around her. Perhaps she would not even notice how time passed and without her noticing, that time would arrive after a blink of an eye...

Who was she kidding?!

This was hell. Her own personal hell. It was just as described, it was whole torture that made you feel like burning. Anne wondered whether this was...

Furious, she grabbed one of the cushions and buried her head into the soft and cushy square. A soft and muffled scream was heard throughout the silence in the room. A few more followed after that. The louder and harder she screamed, the harder she pressed the cushion into her face, or her face into the cushion. She tried to shout all the frustration that resided inside her, a desperate attempt to let it all out, because she knew she could not wreak it upon the true cause for it.

What was she doing?

Nothing, she replied. And that was going to chance, she decided.

With more determination than before, she rose from the bed. This was not her! She was more than that. She was more than a woman lying on her bed trying to find sleep and knowing she won't. She was not helpless. She was not ignorant. She was a story. There was action inside her, whether drama, tragedy or whatever, but she was **not** boring. With that decided, she stormed out of her room, much like how Charles had done before. Just on the contrary to him, she did not know where her destination was going to be. But as long as it was outside of these walls, she was satisfied.

God, how she hated these walls.

No matter when, no matter the circumstances, they seemed to be always capable of turning her into someone she was not. She had enough of that! What was it with this palace? What was up with these people? She had not even talked to any of them, and yet she already had enough of them. The mere sight of... anyone infuriated and sickened her.

She needed a fresh new breathe of air. So earlier than before, she found herself back in the garden and yet, she must admit that this was not better than before. On the contrary, it was worse. This place sickened her more than anything. She sickened her herself, because in that moment she realized that she was not trying to escape, she was merely falling back into her old habits. For this was the place where she always sought her peace from, whenever she was unhappy, whenever she was distraught or worried, she would come to this place.

Everything had changed so much, she mused. Even the place that used to be the only solace she had now disgusted her.

It had been foolish of her to come here. She saw that now. It seemed that there was no place among this big castle that could serve as a hideout for her. She had to accept that. With a sigh, she turned around, intending to leave and return to her bed. Nothing would have prepared her of the sight that greeted her, when she turned around.

In front of her stood Henry, King of England and her former husband and it seemed that he was just as caught off-guard as she was.

"Your Majesty..." she whispered in confusion, before it came to her mind to curtsy to him. When she raised her head again, she asked him. "What are you doing here?" She did not mind that her questions might have seemed rude, as he already assumed the worse of her.

"I-" He could not tell her that he had, at least believed to have caught the sight of her, going very fast, if not running down the halls and that it seemed to have pushed something inside of him. He remembered how he followed her, in a far and unsuspicious distance. Finally, when she or rather they arrived in the garden, he saw her stop her walk abruptly and then, she was just standing there. If he had been nearer, then he would have noticed how though her body was still, her eyes were frantically moving around and then slowly darkened with sadness and a little bit of bitterness. But he was not and thus, he just continued to watch the woman, who was supposed to be his ex-wife, a woman he may have once, but no longer hold any feelings for, for what seemed like minutes, before he finally manned up and decided to look after her.

When she had turned around, the only thing he noticed was how pale her face was and when she curtsied to him and rose up again, he barely registered her question. His mind was more caught up with the way her eyes shone, they did not hold their usual gleam, instead, they were shining with what he would now identify as desperation. It had taken him a little bit longer, because this was a sight he had not seen before and thus required more time than usually.

"Your Majesty?"

He knew that she had made a question, but it was one of whose answer he was not sure himself. And so, he replied with the only reasonable thing that came to his mind.

"I was taking a walk." Anne's brow furrowed and she took a glance behind him. It was strange, she did not know that he took walks all by himself. Usually, he would have at least one companion with him, mostly female if the number was reduced to one. He sure had changed, she mused.

She had accepted the fact easily, not doubting his words, since her mind would not find another reason as to why he would be there. And yet, when she looked behind him, a glance that was not lost to him, he felt like being caught, not knowing she was merely wondering and musing and in his panic, which he did not show openly, one might mention.

"The work had been tiring and I wanted a little bit of peace", he explained.

Anne was still frowning, this time in amusement.

"I never doubted your words", she smiled softly. It was only now that Henry realized his mistake. Quickly, he tried to cover it up.

"And what are you doing here?" This question instantly stopped her amused state. He watched her smile falter.

"Nothing, I guess", she replied hesitantly. "I... have no business here. I must have gotten lost." Henry nodded, accepting her answer as she had his.

"You were going to leave before?"

"Yes", Anne replied. "I wanted to go back to my chamber..." Again he nodded, remembering that he had wanted to let her rest, at least that was what Charles had insisted. He still wondered what that was supposed to be. He could not help, but feel resentment towards him for what he has done. Bur what exactly had he done?

"Is there something wrong?" It was her turn to question him, when she noticed that he frowned. This was his typical angry frown, which usually meant nothing good. She hoped that it was not her fault. She knew she had to be careful on how she acted around him, not only for Elizabeth and her...

"No, it is nothing", he assured and looked at her again. This reminded him of something else.

"You look pale. Is there something troubling you?" Henry asked. The question shot right out of his mouth, before he could wonder whether he should ask her that.

"No, Your Majesty, it is..."

"Are you sick?"

"A little bit... perhaps. Yes, I do think so."

"I hope it is due to the trip." Somehow the worry behind his eyes irked her. It made her uncomfortable. There should not be worry behind his eyes, not after the way he had treated her! Not when all her misery was his fault!

"Your Majesty, you worry too much"

She had wanted to say so much more, but she dared not, for her own sake and for she feared her voice would reveal too much.

And it was just now that she mentioned it that he realized the reason why he had followed her. That realization shocked him. However, he could not deny the truth that this was indeed what led him there, with her.

He should have probably agreed with her, but pride prevented him from doing so.

"Let it be my thing to decide", he declared in his proud voice, which merely brought back Anne's amused smile.

It may have been worry and curiosity that led him there, but it was something else that made him stay. Something more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

**A/N: **

* * *

**Chapter 5:**

_"What are you running away from?" he asked her._

_"I do not know what you are talking about." She kept plugging the roses._

_"I knew you were delusional, but you are even hypocritical." Charles replied back with a scoff. Apparently, this seemed to set something off inside of her, as Anne turned around, throwing both, the rose and the cutter, to the ground._

_"What do you want? Have I not already told you that I do not wish to see any of you, nor do I want to see him? Why don't you just leave?"_

_"It is his Majesty." Anne rolled her eyes. "And no, I will not leave as long as you do not come back with me."_

_"Why? Because you fear the King's wrath? How nice to know that not even his best friend is safe from his anger." She crossed her arms and smirked conceitedly at him._

_"I would not be so sure if I were you." She knew he was hinting at the moment, where he was the one favored and she the one, who was discarded, probably forever. Charles on the other hand wondered whether she knew that he was the reason why she was discarded, as Henry had chosen to believe him over his wife._

_"And yet you refuse to leave. Your words are hard to believe, when your actions are screaming the opposite."_

_"And you, what about you?"_

_"What about me, my Grace? I think my precarious predicament-"_

_"You pregnancy is more than obvious." Charles sneered._

_"Well, then I wonder why you assume that the reason I refuse is fear." Anne's eyes darkened. "And I assure you, it is not the reason."_

_"You know Anne, I am tired of this. Why beat around the bush?" he asked rhetorically. "Let me make things clear. Either you are running away from him, because you know that this child is not his or else-"_

_"Or else what?!" She wanted to slap him for his insult, but instead she tightened her grip. There was no need for violence. She was better than that._

_"I am still thinking, for there is no explanation that would come to my mind as to why."_

_"Why? Because it is so hard to believe that this child is his?"_

_"No, the reason why I doubt Henry is the father is that if he truly was, then you would have run to him a long time ago. But instead, you have spent perhaps for almost five months here, hiding this pregnancy. It's because you don't want him to know that you are truly a whore!"_

_"First thing," Anne said with a seething voice, "you and I know very well that he already believes so, even without any proofs, aside from the one he or anybody else invented and secondly, it may be that you do not want to realize this, but the truth is that it is his child. If it pleases you, you can stay until she is born and make sure that it is his child or even better, I will inform you, so that I will not have to always see you."_

_"Who are you trying to kid. What reasons would there be to make you keep this as a secret, instead of trying to claim the power you love so much back?"_

_Anne opened her mouth, ready to reply back, however, in the last second, reason won over when she closed her mouth again. Why trying, when it would be in vain, she mused._

_"I could try," she began, "but I have better things to do than trying to waste my breath for something that is not worth it." She turned around, believing that it would be the best now for her to go, before her emotions got the best of her again._

_"What are you playing at?" Charles shouted after her, not knowing that it was amusing enough for Anne to smile, when she walked away._

_"You still have so much to learn. I wonder how a man like you could have climbed up so high, when he cannot see at all. Well, at least the important things... On the other hand, perhaps this is the reason", she mused._

* * *

"So, how do you like this so far?" Charles asked her.

"Well, you are the first one, who dared to talk to me." Anne replied with a mischievous smile.

"Don't look so unhappy." He nudged her from the side; while watching the crowd mingle, like she had been doing the whole time. "Here", he held up a goblet, wherein Anne guessed was wine. With a grateful smile, she took up his offer and took it down in one gulp.

"Go easy, Anne, you do not want to miss the fun."

"I could give this advice back to you as well, Duke. You seem to have had one too many, if you believe that this is going to be fun, for either of us." Anne said, holding the cool material of the goblet against her lips, while watching the courtiers with disdain.

"They are watching us." she whispered with barely visibly moving lips, as they were hidden behind tableware.

"No, darling, they are watching you, much like how they all did during the whole evening, from the moment on you stepped into this room." Charles declared and held up his goblet to one of the watchers in a friendly or not so friendly signal of acknowledgement. "I wonder why you appeared so early. I would have assumed that you would have avoided this as much as you could."

"The earlier I arrive, the earlier I might be able to leave."

"I see. Wise words." He watched the red water, as he swirled them around.

"This is torture." she scoffed and turned around.

"Then why don't you leave?"

"Because the King has yet to make his appearance and I guessed that it would be the best if I wait until he arrives."

"So that you will not have to deal with him. Smart." Charles smirked.

"One should think so, no? However, he has not appeared until now."

"He sure knows how to torture people."

"If I recall it right, you seemed to have enjoyed torturing me as well." Surprised by her words, Charles looked up to her. She was smiling amusingly, when she saw his reaction. "Don't you remember?" she asked, her head cocked to one side.

* * *

_"For how long do you intend on following me?" Anne asked. "Even if you are not tired, I am."_

_"As long as it is needed. I cannot leave, until you consent." Those were the exact words of Henry._

_"I believe you have received his letter then?" Charles muttered an answer. He should have expected her to have her own spies, after all this was her household however; he had not suspected his own servants to be that indiscreet._

_Anne sighed._

_"Then I pray that you have patience, because I know that neither Henry nor I do."_

_"I would not be in use of any, you would just-" The look she gave him seemed to be pointed enough to discard whatever thought that possessed him. However, it left room for another, equally hurting comment. "You should not talk to him as if you know him."_

_"One should assume that after the time we spent together, I would have the right to do so." She wasted her whole youth on him!_

_"For married couples," Charles noted. "However, you are quite the opposite of it, are you not? And may I remind you that my King is happily married to a woman, whom he loves and adores and who is carrying his long desired child."_

_"He adores and loves every woman." Not to mention that it was merely a fickle._

_"And yet, she is the one he had chosen to marry."_

_"For how long, I guess..."_

_"Perhaps forever, if Gods deems so... and if Gods deems so, she might even deliver his Majesty a son. I heard that they wanted to name him Edward." Charles knew his words made no sense in the first place, however, when he looked, closely, into her eyes, he would see that it had every purpose. He smirked, when he saw its proof._

_"If..." Anne muttered under her breath._

_"If, but she still has her chance." The Duke remarked. He glanced at her and he felt satisfactions, when he saw her bit her pink lips with what seemed a little too much force._

_"You seem tense, my Lady. Are you not feeling well?" he asked with a smirk. Anne glared at him, her hands clenched into fists. For a while, they kept their position, merely watching each other with pointed looks, full of anger and resentment. She took a few deep breaths, and even Charles had problems at reining his temper. He wondered how it she was able to enrage him in such a manner, when this time; it was actually him that was attacking her._

_"Your Grace," Anne began slowly, in a calm voice, her fists unclenched. "You seem to enjoy torturing me, and I cannot help but wonder why." She gave him a wry smile, knowing that they both knew it was a truth that could not be denied._

_"Consider this as payback."_

* * *

"Indeed." Charles smiled and took a sip from his drink. "I cannot believe that you still remember my words." He chuckled and looked at his glass, probably not wanting to look at her, knowing he would feel guilt and regret at the words that had long passed since he had hissed them at her.

"Do you still believe that I am cruel?"

"Anne... I-" She eyed him with a look of expectancy, waiting for the next words that would never come out. He wished that she could see her own expression right now, just as he wished that he would have a way to store this smile away, somewhere safe and always in his reach.

"You don't have to answer it, if you don't want. I would never want to force you." She apologized quickly, after she realized how this question seemed to have set him off.

"No, it is okay." He assured her thereafter just as fast. "Anne-" She looked up to him, knowing she was going to receive her answer.

"The King is arriving!" Both of their heads turned towards where the voice had come from, however, not simultaneously. Anne managed to be a little bit faster than Charles. Something that may have gone unnoticed by her, but he was very well aware of that. And also, on the contrary to Anne, his eyes did not linger on the King, nor was it focused on the lady behind the Kind. No, his attention was occupied by the black-haired beauty right next to him.

* * *

_"I am aware of the fact that we never had an amicable relationship, the farthest was nothing more than a convenience, however, I had never done anything to personally attack you." It was not like she desired to be his friend or that she wanted him to like her, but it was getting tiring. She was slowly accepting his presence in her four walls and thus, she got over the fact that they somehow had to find a common ground, for both of their sake._

_"You deserved whatever you got. You are a cruel woman." Charles hissed._

_"I do know that some consider me as that and that for some, it is nothing short of appropriate to call me so, but I never considered you to them."_

_"You take advantage of people around you. You are selfish, cold-hearted. You do not care for the people you hurt or whom you have so step over in order to reach your goals."_

_"I presume that you are referring to Katherine and the Lady Mary."_

_"And Henry as well."_

_It was true that she was cruel to Katherine and her child and although she truly considered their marriage invalid, it did not justify her treatment of them. She admitted that much._

_"Charles, I am trying here. I try to find a common ground, for the both of us. I don't like it either, I don't want you here, but appearance has it that you will not go anywhere, but neither am I!" She closed her eyes. "So, for the sake of both of us, why don't we try to make a truce? I don't want to fight with you. Don't you have something better to do, than to be stuck with me? Like your child?"_

_"Don't you dare to talk about my child! You know nothing about the relationship between me and my son. I doubt that you would even know the meaning of paternal relationship."_

_Somehow, she wanted to be angry at him and indeed, there was a part of her that felt insulted at his words, and yet, she was calm. Anne guessed it was because somewhere she did agree with him. She had not enjoyed the kind of relationship she desired to share with her daughter, nor was it, at least she believed it to be so, the kind of relationship Charles had with his son. Not that she knew anything of it, but she could guess from the look of possessiveness, with which he glared at her._

_And so, instead of replying, Anne smiled bitterly and turned towards the window. She held up her hand, her finger touching the cold glass gingerly, as thought it was thinner than paper and softer than it appeared._

_"Perhaps you are right, it mayhap that I had not had the maternal relationship between a normal mother and daughter..." She bit her lip, this time gentler "However, do not believe that it does not lie in my heart's wish."_

_Usually, he would have scoffed. Usually, he would have not believed one word she muttered. But usually, she would not have talked to him with such a ... gentle voice. It made him uncomfortable, even inflicted pain, mostly at his ego, to admit such a thing, but there was no other way to describe that soft and barely audible voice that whispered such ... fragile words to him. If he had merely heard those words, not knowing her voice or not seeing her, he would have never guessed that it would come from the same person, who had haughtily claimed the Crown as her own and declared everything she had stolen to be hers._

_Anne turned to him. He looked confused, something Anne decided to overlook._

_"Because this is not the case", she continued to explain with a calm voice. Her eyes were soft, and yet gentle and his breath hitched, when he looked into them. Looking back, he would later on guess that this was the first time he finally decided to appreciate the trait always connected to her eyes._

_They truly were hooks to the soul._

_However, in that moment, when his whole being was keen on recognizing in her the enemy, the embodiment of vileness, he would push that thought in the farthest corner of his mind, silently chiding himself. Not that this chiding would have any effects, as in the future, this thought would cross his mind many times and he would feel neither regret nor shame, but ease and serenity fill his mind and body._

_"Do you truly think that I would believe you?" He frowned. He himself would never admit it, but somehow, somewhere, he did believe her._

_"No, I don't, but I admit I had hoped that you would." Anne smiled and looked outside through the window. It was beyond her own understanding why she would want to explain herself to him, she owed him no explanation and yet, she wanted to. She wanted to explain herself to him, explain her reasons, why she was staying. Anne wanted to tell him that she was not the vindictive and selfish woman he portrayed her to be, not as much anymore, at least._

_Perhaps it was because she was sick and tired of misunderstandings or maybe it was truly her need for peace or at least truce between them, which would also be for the sake of her unborn child. But maybe, possibly, it was because of the way his eyes shone, when she had mentioned his son. The protectiveness, the possessiveness, only recognizable in a father, had touched her. She had yet to see this kind of expression from her husb- ex-husband, nor her father... No man had ever looked so protective of his child, at least not those around her._

_He was the first..._

_"I am not doing this, because I want to hurt anyone. It is not because I enjoy torturing you, nor is it because of selfish reasons. I am not doing this for me." If she would have done anything for herself, then she would have run to Henry the moment she knew she was pregnant, paraded her pregnant stomach in front of the entire court and especially in front of Jane. But she repressed her urges. "I stayed here..."_

_She looked outside. For a while, she starred there and Charles, not knowing what to think, followed her gaze._

_"Elizabeth..." It was the first time that he had seen her there. He wondered for how long the Princess had played in the garden. Well, probably from the moment Anne started to dart her eyes towards the window, spacing out every now and then._

_"She is the reason." Anne whispered, almost so quiet that Charles would have missed it, had the room not be as quiet as silence. He regarded her. A smile was painted on her serene face. Goosebumps ran over almost his whole body, when he took in her appearance. Anne's whole frame was bathed in the rare sunlight that shone through the window. She almost looked divine and Charles shuddered, keeping in his mind that this woman was the devil in his world and should be burned at stake._

_"You are blaming-"_

_"I am not blaming anyone, Your Grace. I am merely saying that I have decided to grow up and it is all for her." Finally, Anne tore her gaze from her sweet daughter, deigning the duke with a look again. "I would never be able to blame my child, as much as I believe you could never blame your son-."_

_"And why?"_

_"Why what?" Why? Why... everything! Because he understood nothing._

_"What do you mean; you are doing this for her?"_

_"Because I owe it to her." Anne looked down on her stomach, her hands wrapped around her round stomach. "And to the little one growing in my stomach."_

_"You believe that it is a girl?"_

_"I hope so", she replied to his question. Anticipating his next question, one she knew she would not be able to answer calmly, she changed the topic. "You have to know that I love both of them very much."_

_Charles remained silent. Perhaps he would get a clearer understanding of her words, if he just kept quiet and leave her her own pace._

_"I know that you consider me as a selfish woman and you are right. I am selfish. I think I have always been." She sighed and looked towards her hands. They were wrapped around her stomach. "There is a part of me that is ashamed of my action. I am not proud of them. However, there are some aspects I cannot help but will repeat if given the chance."_

_"Because of Elizabeth..." Anne smiled._

_"You seem to begin to understand..." He wondered whether she even knew that every now and then she would sneak a little peek towards the window and through the glass. "It is ironic. Perhaps it is justice, I do not know. But what I cannot deny is the fact that I have lost everything I achieved, loved and desired to achieve and yet, I gained so much of what I had never wanted. Can you understand what I mean?"_

_He did not reply._

_"I never wanted her. At least, I never thought I would want,- love her so much as I do right now. But the moment I held her in my arms..." Anne chuckled. "I loved her. I loved her and I would have given everything for her. From then, everything I did, I did it for her."_

_Charles doubted her words. It was unbelievable._

_"I know my words may seem twisted from your point of view, because it was no secret that wanted so much to give... _him_, a son..." Again, she chuckled. "But I did this for her as well." She insisted upon her words and somehow, Charles' doubts began to dissolve._

_"And yet, because all of this, I had neglected her. She was so young..." She bit her lips. It was her turn to become silent._

_It was weird, and frightening not to mention, but slowly, Anne began to transform in front of his eyes. No, that was not correct. She had already changed. It was him._

_It was him!_

_He was the one changing. He was beginning to see her as someone, who was not heartless, and maybe never was to begin with._

* * *

Charles' eyes were glued to her, however, different from before, her beautiful blue eyes were no longer on him, instead they lingered upon another man. One, who did not and had never deserved her attention, least her admiration and devotion, especially not after what he had done to her. And yet, here they were. Both claiming to hate each other and both lying and pretending.

Their usually cold eyes were the only part of them that did not lie.

He was not stupid. Well, he was not very intelligent and sometimes, he was just plain stupid, but not even he was dumb enough to miss what was going on. What was going on, one might question.

Well, Anne was not heartless, but she was still cruel. That is what was going on.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

**A/N: **Hey, thank you for all of your reviews. I, and my beta as well, were quite surprised to see how well received Charles and Anne as a couple are. But I am glad that you liked this. However, for those, who are still rooting for Henry and Anne, I can assure you that there are going to be more HenryxAnne centric chapters. ... Like this one! I, as a HenryxAnne fan, hold this in high regard ;). Especially since I love the quote in the ending.

I hope that you like the following chapter, please tell me what you think about it.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

However, as cruel as Anne was, Henry was capable of surpassing her any time, at any day and in every possible way.

Charles noted that the Queen was following him closely. He glanced at Anne, whose gaze was still lingering at their direction, although he barely believed that she saw Jane at all, because appearance has it that, similarly to him playing the second fiddle the moment the ex-spouse make its entrance, Jane could not compare with Anne either. He wondered whether she was aware of the fact that her husband was walking up to them, or rather her, his former wife.

It would have made a funny image, to see her trying to catch up to her husband's steps.

However, it was sadder for all participants. For him and for Anne, because both were tired from the rules of this play, for Jane, especially now that she is pregnant and even for Henry, because he was making a fool of himself and worse, of all of them, because although none of them wanted it, he had enough power to force them.

"My Lady Anne, what a pleasure to see you," he glanced at Charles, while both of them were curtsying to the two royals. "And of you as well, Charles. I do hope that you are doing better."

It was funny, Anne thought, just looking into his eyes, of course not having shared half of her life with him, she would have believed him to be sincere, even concerned. But the fact was that she had wasted half of her life on him.

"Yes, your Majesty, I thank you for your concern", she smiled benevolently. Deep down she hoped that he would not went farther into what had transpired in the garden today, for she was not in the mood to explain it to Charles. He was already worrying too much, or rather, seeing to many things that were not there. She feared that he would interpret too much in that innocently coincident. "Your Majesty, I have to congratulate you on this evening. It is a wonderful feast. The Queen did a wonderful job." With that she turned to the Queen, smiling at her as well.

Jane, knowing that in front of her husband, who had already warned her to act cordial towards the Marquess returned her smile. However, she did a poor job at this, for all three around her took notice of the bitterness with which she forced her smile.

"Thank you for your compliment, Lady Anne, however this is not my credit."

Either Anne was a very good actress, when she feigned embarrassment over her assumption or either she truly did not know.

"Oh, I apologize then-"

"There is no need for you to. You meant no harm and it is indeed a wonderful feast. I am glad that it is to your liking." Henry interrupted, not knowing that Anne actually despised every little part of this event. "However, I am glad to pass this compliment on to Cromwell."

"Cromwell did this?" One should believe that his secretary should actually be bothered with... well affairs of the state instead of...

"He did." Henry nodded and as if sensing her unspoken irritation, he quickly added "The Queen is not in the condition to bother with such things, however since your arrival still has to be welcome appropriately, I could not leave it to anyone inept, can I?" The smile he was giving her was so charming that it would make others puke. Well actually, only one and Charles had difficulties suppress his urge to do so.

Anne nodded understanding, as if it was the most normal thing that Henry could answer to what she had not uttered.

"Of course, such a condition is very fragile." If Charles had not put his hand at her waist, she would have almost slipped her advice to the Queen to take more care, because it was dangerous to lose a pregnancy. "But still, I would very much enjoy it if your Majesty would not mention any of my words to Mr. Cromwell." Anne smiled mysteriously.

"And may I inquire why?"

"I am not sure if your Majesty would be pleased with my answer." The giggle with which she ended her sentence however exposed her lie, since she already knew that it would not matter. She was merely playing with her King.

"I promise you, not to speak one word towards Master Cromwell." And although he was gazing at Anne, it seemed that he was winking at seemed that there was an uncannily unknown connection between them, an unspoken exchange of words through their eyes. Jane shifted uncomfortably, while Charles pressed his lips together.

"My Queen, you look lovely tonight. I must say, the pregnancy suits you." None of them flinched at his words, because they were, who they were, but if they had not been, all of them would have winced at his words. Charles smiled. "Your majesty, may I suggest you to open the party with a dance? I am sure the court would be ecstatic to see their beloved King and Queen dance."

"What a wonderful idea, your Grace." Jane smiled sweetly, thinking that perhaps she had been wrong to believe that Charles sided with Anne.

"No!" This was spoken with such a force that they had no other choice but to wince.

"My King..."

"I fairly doubt this is a good idea." Henry declared, and then turned to Jane. "Darling, keep in mind that you have to act more careful now that you are carrying our next son. You cannot act like you please. After all, it would be easy for you to trip." And although it was a gentle scold, it was enough to hurt Jane's feeling. Anne watched them. She was so entranced in this scene, like this a scene was from a play and the plot was her own story, just with a different cast.

"But surely, a mistake like that would rarely happen." Anne contributed. Henry squeezed Jane's hand.

"Well, it is better not to take any risks", he replied with a well-meant smile. Much like Henry, Charles grabbed Anne's elbow and squeezed it, although gentler, preventing her from speaking rashly.

"If you say so, our Majesty..." Anne glanced from the corner of her eye at her friend and subsequently at Jane. There she was met with unmistakably glare. Jane probably assumed that this was supposed to be a strike against her.

It was truly ironic. This was the first time that Anne truly pitied her. Watching Henry scold Jane, indirectly saying she was far too clumsy to dance, was almost like watching herself and she felt the familiar shame and hurt come to the surface again, although she was now the one he smiled benevolently at.

Maybe it was then better that she had not mentioned the fact that she danced during her early pregnancy, and at every opportunity she got. Surely, this would have made matters even worse.

"However, I had hoped that, my Lady, you would grace me with a dance, if my wife is impeded."

To say that this surprised her was an understatement. Judging from the looks, which she tried to sneak secretly, she was not the only one. The Queen's face was ashen, although she could not determine exactly whether it was out of shock or of anger. Perhaps it is even a mix out of those two. Charles, well, she deigned him only a small and very short glance, because to tell the truth, she was scarred from what she might find. There would surely be anger, resentment and, what she feared the most, jealousy. And if Anne had dared to look even more fare, she would have noticed the few bystanders, who, some more subtle and some less, were eavesdropping their conversation.

Only Henry seemed to be the one, who was pleased with himself.

And this in turn angered Anne. Who did he believe he was? Well, it might very well be that he was the King of England, but does that give him the right to play people's emotion, to abuse them in such a manner? Along with the anger rose pity. And shame. For she remembered very well that not long ago, it had been her who wrongly assumed that it was her right as well. It had been mere six years since she began to learn of the shame of her assumptive behavior.

"I fear that this is not possible, your Majesty." Henry seemed to be startled by her rebuff.

"And why, if I may ask."

"Because this seems highly appropriate and because I fear of what impressions this might make on others. The King shall open the dance with his beloved Queen and no one else. I do not have the right", Anne explained, while wearing a gently apologetic smile. She hoped to signify the severity of his actions, in a way that would no anger him. She did not want to cause any anger or hurt, she did not intend to cause any damage. The only thing she wanted was to leave this place, leave everything behind as she had found it at her arrival. Like she had never been there.

She hoped that he knew that.

"I assume that I cannot make you reconsider your choice to give me your first dance." Henry concluded, while regarding her face. Anne responded with a benevolent smile, which gave him his answer. "Then surely, if you refuse to give me your hand for the first dance, you would not refuse if I request for the last."

"I..." Anne glanced towards Charles, who was staring grimly looking to the front, his stare seemingly glaring at the nothingness. "How can I refuse the King's offer?" Anne smiled, far too sweetly.

"Meanwhile, my Lady perhaps you would grace me with a dance." Charles turned to her and offered her his hand.

"Your majesty, please excuse me." Anne bowed, still smiling sickeningly sweet, leaving Henry no choice but to consent. Quickly Charles grabbed Anne's hand, pulling her away from the royal couple. If his grip had been too rough, Anne did not show it openly.

"I wish you had not done this" Anne stated, without looking anywhere specifically.

"Why?" Anne made a turn, her eyes casting over Henry for one second.

"He is watching us," she replied after she was faced him again.

"You know what worries me the most? That after everything that has happened, he is still the utmost important thing in your mind." She denied his statement with her glaring eyes. "Do you not believe it? You still care about what he thinks." He squeezed her right hand tightly.

"He is not the only one watching." Anne warned him. His face was getting closer, closer than what is actually needed.

"You are trying to change the topic." Charles scoffed.

"What is your problem?" she hissed. She was trying to keep her voice down, but it was so unbelievably hard, considering that every second her anger grew further. Again, when it was their turn to twirl, Anne kept her stoic mask on, leaving nothing for the people to imagine.

When Charles finally stepped in front of her again, they fell back into their pattern, trying to keep up their charade, while arguing violently.

"You know, Brandon, I don't understand you."

"Well, at least a feeling that is mutual."

"What is that supposed to mean again?"

"I don't understand you either, Anne."

Anne replied nothing at his statement. Instead, she averted her eyes, looking to the floor. She had never wanted to trust any man again, because it hurt to be let down. This was also the reason why she kept him at bay, and she only let him as near, as much as she trusted him not to hurt her. For, there was a line crossed, when she began to believe that he knew her, that he would not hurt her.

Now, here they were.

Anne listened to the music, and she realized that the music was over soon. Finally, she thought. She was glad, for she was not sure whether she could have endured another minute with him. He was worse than a woman, his moods were constantly changing and much like with a woman, she did not know whether he truly meant it. When the music did end, she parted from him. However to Charles, it seemed more like she was recoiling from him.

Anne turned around and went directly to the door.

* * *

Jane had observed the whole ordeal. She knew something was amiss. The both of them looked tense and when the dance was over, they parted. She wondered what was going on between the two of them. Charles had changed; she could not remember when this had started. But nowadays, he seemed to be so distant. Especially towards Henry. They used to be close friends and yet, she could not remember the time they had shared any activities together, far less enjoyed a good laugh together.

It was sad to see such a wonderful friendship break up.

Jane could not help but blame Anne for all this sorrow. Surely, she must have poisoned the Duke's mind with her lies, even worse to think of, even seduced him. Was there any limit to that woman's wickedness? She directed her gaze to her husband. He was lucky to have escaped those woman's clutches. It was so much better for every participant, for her husband, the King, his subjects and of course the Princess Mary. She just hoped now that Anne had appeared again, she would not make all those goods go wrong again. Surely, her husband must have enough sense to finally see the witch she is and not forget it.

But the way the King had watched that wretched woman, she knew she should fear for his soul. But what could she do? It was so easy for her to manipulate people, especially men and the King seemed to make no difference. The evening was the best example. She knew she should not have come, but one of her ladies-in-waiting had changed her mind. She advised the Queen to come along, to not let the woman get too close to her husband. And indeed, that witch was still able to manipulate people as she pleased.

God, how humiliating it had been, when Henry forbade her to dance with him. She had never enjoyed dancing, this was true and surely, she was not as talented as other ladies of her station were, but still...

"Where did the Lady Anne go?" Henry questioned the Duke of Suffolk.

"She did not feel well. She wanted to leave and get fresh air. The evening seemed to have been too much for her," the Duke explained with a chuckle

"But certainly she had not forgotten the last dance she promised me. She would make a fool out of me, if she were to disappear now," Henry joked. "Perhaps it would be better if I were to go after her," Henry mused.

"Oh, I doubt it, your Majesty. The lady would never forget something as important as the promise she made you." Henry laughed.

"I would like to believe so, as well, but Charles, you out of everyone should know it better. You cannot trust women with these things, they are far too volatile."

"Every women, but a Tudor rose." Charles added.

Even after they have spent so much time apart, they still seemed to know how the mind of the other friend worked. It was truly amazing.

"Exactly, Charles. But now, if you excuse me and please, take care of my wife, while I am gone." He turned to Jane and kissed her cheek quickly. "Do not worry, darling, it will not take long, I promise you." With that he dashed towards the door and disappeared. Jane still remembered his assuring smile. He had pretended that everything was normal, that it was normal for a husband to go look for another woman so that she could dance with him.

The Queen touched her cheek softly, right at the place where her King had kissed her. It was a loving gesture and yet...

"Your Grace...?"

"Yes, your Majesty." Charles replied, with a difficultly collected voice.

"It seems that we are the only ones left now." She felt the eyes of the courtiers around her, while she smiled sweetly at the Duke of Suffolk. It scarred her to think about how many eyes were on her, judging and gossiping. Worse, they could be laughing at her right now, because the witch had gotten what she wanted yet again. She was ashamed of herself as well.

"It seems so." His eyes darted towards the door, where his closest people had went past and he could not help but frown.

"Is there something bothering you, your Grace?" Jane asked. The worry was in her voice as well and Charles knew that she feared for her husband and for her marriage.

"No, it is nothing," he relied, trying to sound reassuring. He eyed her again. It was somewhere remarkable how easy it was for her to change topics, even though her husband had practically abandoned her for another woman, his previous wife nonetheless. If it had been Anne, who had always desperately clung onto Henry because of her own consuming love for him, she would have raged and sulked. But she had done so, because she loved Henry...

"Had something happened between you and... the Lady Anne?" He could hear the difficulty in her voice to refer to Anne as Lady and he was sure, anybody else would have as well. He guessed it was because of her own contempt for Anne, although he was not sure whether it was just her person in a whole, or because Anne was a threat to her.

"It is nothing worthy of your concern. It is merely a small misunderstanding between friends."

"Whatever it was, I am sure you are right. It is not worth it. Do you not believe that this ridiculous? That the Lady-"

"The Lady Anne is a dear friend of mine." Charles interrupted her. "She is someone, whom I care a lot for. It is common for friends to have different opinions, especially since people tend to overlook what is the best for them."

"You care for her? Do you love her?" Jane asked.

"Again, this is of no concern for you, your Majesty."

"She is only-"

"My Queen!" Both of them were silent now. Neither of them dared to say any word, so instead they were looking at each other, waiting for the other to act. Charles eyes darted to the courtiers. It seemed that now Anne and Henry had disappeared, they were of no interest anymore. No one was watching them and if they did, they did not seem to care much.

"Your Grace..." Jane whispered. Charles sighed, she was such a pitiable person. She was meek and small and... breakable, almost like a little child. The difference between Anne and Jane was so great, wider than Europe and the New World, that it left anyone on wonder where the connection might be. They hardly found one.

"How are you and the future prince faring?" he asked benevolently.

* * *

Anne sighed and looked up to the sky. For the time of the being, the night sky, the stars at the firmament, the signs they formed and the moon, were the only solace for her. They were the only thing that would not change, that was not different from her home.

She gazed almost lovingly at the dark, yet glittery, nothingness and she would have continued doing so, if she would not have heard the slurping step behind her. startled, she stood up and faced the shadow.

"Who is there?" She hoped that it was not him again.

"I am sorry, if I had frightened you." The gleaming smile he wore, however, was barely a sign of regret.

"Your majesty." she smiled and curtsied to him.

"A beautiful lady like you ought to be mingling with people and instead you are here..."

"I did not mean to insult you, my King, but..."

"The Duke of Suffolk told me that you did not feel well."

"Did he?" Anne smirked, almost ironically.

"Was there any specific reason, that...?"

"No, your Majesty, everything is beautiful and I am awed by the expenses you lavish me with." She spoke very much like a child, citing the bible to her tutor, knowing proudly this is what was expected to hear from her, even if she understood not a scintilla.

"Yet, it seems to not be enough to keep you there."

"I, myself, am to blame for this, you have to understand. I..." she turned around and leaned window again. "I do not think I belonged there. I felt uncomfortable." Why was she being so honest with him? Maybe it is because she was foolishly hoping he would ... yes, what did she hope for?

"If I recall it right, you used to love them. You **belonged** there." She felt his presence directly behind him. It was disturbing, because of the goose bumps that ran over her whole back, how her skin felt like it was on fire. She arched her back slightly in reaction.

"So much time has passed that I do not know anymore how to do that." She said, trying to find excuses. She heard Henry chuckle behind her. He removed himself from her space, and Anne breathed a sigh of relief out. However, when she had closed her eyes, she failed to notice how he was leaning his back to the wall now, facing her directly.

"Why are you looking at me so oddly?" Anne asked him in an irritated voice, which made him smile. Her voice and expression were so familiar with him.

"I just find it hard to believe."

"Why, do you think I am lying? Well, I am not. You may not believe me, but I have no place among your courtiers anymore. I have no idea how to act, how to talk with them. Like I had already said, a lot of time had passed. I would just embarrass myself, if I try to strike a conversation with them."

"Nonsense, Anne," She watched him reach out his hands to her, his fingers gently caressing her cheek and she noticed how easy and tempting it was for her to just indulge in his soft touch. "You are so very charismatic... Charm is in your nature, therefore it is not possible for you to forget it."

"What are you doing here?" Anne asked, trying to change the subject, to something more... something less distracting.

"I came here to retrieve what you had promised me." She bit her lips. "Well, my lady, do you feel like giving me your last dance?" He held out his hands for her, waiting for her to grab it and dance with him, in front of every courtier. Anne hesitated, wondering whether there was a way for her to decline, whether she should decline at all.

She grabbed his hand.

* * *

If her entrance back to the hall, with the King holding her hand, was shocking or considered outrageous by anyone in the room, then they did not let it show. Charles had imagined that the people would gasp and begin to whisper behind held up hands, but at least they learned to be a little more discreet. They only began to whisper quietly behind their hands, when the music of the last dance began to play, so that their little whispers were drowned by the melodic play.

Unlike the nobility around him, Charles was not observing the former couple. He was far more interested to the pair of siblings right next to him. Quite shortly after Henry had left, Edward Seymour had joined him. He could not complain, since it relieved his talk with the Queen, however it became just as heavy, when Henry returned with Anne. Since then, both of them had been quiet. Edward, who had always been more silent than his brother, observed them with hawk's eyes and by just watching him, Charles had a feeling that nothing escaped those eyes. They were intense, as if it was a script and he understood every context, as cryptic as it was.

Jane was also watching them. However, the worries in her eyes were not the worry of a wife for her possibly straying husband. It was more like concern. It was not mixed with the intense fear of losing the one she loved, no anguish, like it had been with silent and accepting Katherine, there was no anger and resentment like it had been with Anne, who burned with love for her husband.

It was just... concern.

* * *

They were looking into each other's eyes as they danced. It was very slow, very intimate, so it was not like she could have prevented it. But now that they were standing in front of each other, looking and dancing, Anne could not help but feel certain reminiscence wash over her. She remembered this dance. She had danced this often times with him, even before Katherine, his then wife. Speaking of wife...

When it was Anne's turn to stay still, she dared to glance at the Queen. She was watching them, although not as intense as Katherine had done then. Quickly, she faced Henry again.

"Your Majesty, can I ask you a question?" she asked, while rounding him.

"Of course you can."

"May you tell me the reason you really requested my attendance."

"Why, is it such a crime to see the face of one, who is still dear and beloved to me? I like to tend good relations to my subjects."

"No, I guess it is not. But I am just your subject as any other is. There is no reason I deserved your attention more than anyone."

"Indeed, it is no crime. However, a lie is nonetheless bad." He arched an eye-brow.

"I was not aware that I have lied to you, madam." Yes, he did. Often times, actually, perhaps always. Both of them knew that, more or less.

"Maybe not directly, but I also know that whatever Charles told me to be the actual reason, was not the truth. You wanted everyone to believe the reason for my visit is connected to the Queen's pregnancy or whatever, but I..."

"What is it?" Anne bit her lips and looked away. Damn it, she had said too much without noticing it herself. There is no way that she could face him now without feeling urged to finish her sentence and she also knew that she would regret her words. Maybe not now, but surely later, and definitely by the time she would return to Pembroke again, back to her old life, without him. "Anne...?"

She wondered why he always seemed to know where to push her. She had not done anything, uttered no word or showed any revealing sign and yet, he just knew.

"Because I know you." And she knew that he would never leave her in peace before learning the finished sentence, not mattering that it was merely a sentence. He was just as curious as she is. "I know you, Henry." She blinked and looked away again, hoping that he would not catch her pathetically somber look.

"You sure seem to."

"Why, can you not guess it? I thought you knew me." Either he was mocking her or else he was testing her. She would have chosen the latter, had she seen the hopeful spark in his eyes and if she had more courage to dare. But there was not enough left in her to take the risk of losing yet again.

"I used to, however, only the you from five years ago. People change, your Majesty."

"And you, did you change much?"

"Yes, at least I would like to believe I did so," Anne replied honestly. "I am not going to get an answer, am I?"

"I will give you one, when I have it myself."

Anne chuckled.

"Is there anything amusing?" Henry asked, twinkling at her with glee and amusement.

"I doubt it is something that your Majesty wants to hear," she explained with what others around them might perceive as a flirtatious smile. "Are you still willing to listen?"

"A beautiful lady should be able to speak out her mind freely." Anne smiled and looked down to the floor. This might have appeared to be an act of humility, but Henry knew that there was nothing humble about Anne. So he wondered what was bothering her so much that she did not want him to see it, not knowing it was because of his words that resembled a small whisper of love of freedom he had once promised her. He may have long forgotten it, but they had been touching enough that it reached Anne's core and manifested themselves there.

"You shall not let your wife hear that, my King."

As if the mention of his wife had suddenly woken him up, his back stiffened and his eyes moved automatically towards her. But that went unnoticed by Jane, who was now talking with her father. Charles was standing next to her.

"Somewhere, somehow, I admire her, how she is able to stay so calm..." Anne said. Henry caught the meaning of her words in an instant.

"Sometimes," Henry slowly began to admit, "it had been sweet, when you were jealous." Anne bit her lip again.

His answer was shocking, confusing and somewhere, it made her feel happy. Yes, it was confusing. She was not sure which was more shocking, the fact that he could talk about their past so openly, especially when she could not or the fact that he thought her jealousy was cute.

Henry took her hand and twirled her into his embrace. His arms were no encircling her, holding her captive in his arms.

"Are you saying that you miss it?" Her head was turned to her side, so that her whisper was directly next to his ear.

Her eyes wandered back to Jane, while waiting for an answer. Indeed, although her eyes were following them, it was not that she was observing their every move. Sometimes, she was distracted by Charles or even her brother and father. Had it been her, who had to watch her beloved husband cultivate with another female, she would have been so enraged that she could have given hell a run for its credit. Suddenly, she remembered Edward Seymour's words, when they spoke earlier, before Henry had arrived.

_"What are you doing here?" she asked. Out of all evils spawns of the Seymour family, it had to be the one she disliked the most._

_"Why, my lady, you do not seem to be happy to see me."_

_"Perhaps it is because I have no reason to."_

_"You know what your greatest mistake was? To have loved him. You should have just tried to keep him, instead of loving him."_

_Anne hated that he was right._

_"Katherine may have loved the King, but she also knew her place, but she also loved her power. She was proud of her power. You, on the other hand... You loved him, very much. You were proud of his love. You would have even loved him, even without his power, one might suspect. Was it the case?" Anne refused to look him into his eyes. He did not expect any answer._

_"My sister is neither proud nor does she love the King more than it is healthy for her. She loves him as her sovereign and that is all the love she needs. This is all the love the King wants and this is why her outcome is far better than yours and Queen Katherine's will ever be."_

_This and the fact that she had born the King a son._

_"Since you are able to predict things so well, tell me, what would have happened to the Queen, if she had born a girl, instead of a boy?"_

_"To think about such a thing is treason." Anne rolled her eyes. "Besides, luckily, there is no need for such thoughts."_

If Jane truly did not love Henry, in the way a wife ought to love a husband, the way that Anne had given him her love, then it would be an even greater shame for her, or pity... or a blessing.

She wondered whether Henry knew.

* * *

_In this twisted way, I know you miss me liking you, not because I want to believe it's true, but because you will never find a girl that can put up with you like I did; you will never find a girl who will care as much as I did, because no one will ever waste all their love on someone like you, like I did. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

**A/N: **Hey there, I am sorry if it had taken too long. Actually, I cannot even tell whether it has been that long. It merely just that I am stuck with school, my last year and just today, I had written an exam for six hours... I will try to update as soon as possible, but I hope you guys can understand if it would take up some time ^^

From your reviews, I got the impression that I had been able to ship you back a little more near the middle line when it comes to Henry and Charles.I am glad you liked the chapters.

**angel0014:** Nice guess, but not exactly what might happen, I think, I am not quite sure, but you are not that wrong either...

** Befham:** Whether Charles stand a chance is still written in the sky, none of them knows, not even I ... :(. But perhaps you guys might be able to persuade me for a certain ending

Please tell me what you think about this chapter, especially the last words, I love that sentence :I

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

The next morning, Anne woke up with a pounding in her heart. She was confused and slightly in panic, when she woke up. When she looked around, she did not recognize the room as her own. In the first seconds, her mind made up many worse scenarios to reason what might have happened, before she was finally awake enough to remember that she was not at Pembroke anymore.

With a sigh, she fell back into her cushions.

At least the bed was comfortable, she thought dryly.

She closed her eyes again and let the last evening's event pass through her. It was hard for her to comprehend what had happened. No, actually, she knew what had happened, but what was truly hard to understand, was how it had went from just horrible to horribly confusing to her. She had known all along that it would be torture for her, to be stuck with people, who despised her as much as she despised them, but never had she expected for that, what had happened. She wished that she was able to specify it.

Had it been just her imagination, when she heard Henry's more or less admitted that he was missing her, or at least her jealousy towards him? No, it could not have been her imagination. She had not drunk enough to have made up such fantasies, even if it would not be for the first time and she surely had not been that desperate. She was past that stage.

However, it is likely that she had interpreted just too much in his words. But the question was, had she or had she not?

She was more inclined to the explanation that her doubts were true and that Henry indeed that he missed her. But then, she would have to wonder whether it was because she liked to believe it or because it was just the truth.

Anne bit her lip. This was the exact reason, why she had abhorred the thought of returning. A mere day has passed and she was already robbed of her peace. How she wished to return to Pembroke, her safe haven, the sanctuary that she had built for herself and her children.

The sudden thought of her children caused her thoughts to take a complete different path.

Anne shot up from her bed. Just in that very minute, the door was thrown open with a loud thud.

"Charles!" Anne gasped out of surprise. "What are you doing here?" Especially at such an ungodly hour, she thought to herself in slight annoyance.

"Listen, Anne, I have to tell you something-"

"Surely not in my state of-"

"I am sorry!"

This was enough to shut her up. Anne closed her open mouth and let his words settle in. She blinked a few times, wondering if she had heard him right. But judging from the eerily silence that shot throughout the room, she guessed that she had not dreamed it.

"I..." What was she supposed to say? Thank you? She hardly doubted that. "I, I am... surprised." She said hesitantly.

"Listen Anne, I know that last night, I acted out of line. It was not my place to reprimand or judge your behavior, I know that now." Charles was avoiding looking at her, a sign which told Anne that he was nervous. "I just wanted you to know that I did not mean to hurt. I care about you."

Again, she hesitated before answering him.

"I know." She replied, causing him to look up. "I know and that is why I will not stay mad at you this time." She put more emphasis on 'this time', to indicate that it would be the only time she would be so willing to forgive him. But it seems that it was all that Charles had hoped for, when he flashed a bright smile at her, leaving Anne no other choice but to return it.

"Did you have your breakfast already?" he questioned. Anne shook her head in denial, however before he could propose to her, she added that she had unmade affair she would prefer to do now.

"Will I see you later today, then?"

"I will try." From the look on his face, he was not pleased with her answer. "As soon as I finish my letter."

"Letter?"

"I thought about writing a letter to Elizabeth or at least to her governess, just to see whether they are doing fine."

"Anne, you just left yesterday. I doubt that they would have injured themselves to a point of exaggerated motherly apprehension, especially not under those observing eyes of their governess. She adores them; your whole household adores them."

"You make it sound as though it was something awful."

"See, you misunderstand me again. It is just... irritating."

"I guess you cannot help it. It must be the jealousy that is speaking out of you." Charles shrugged.

"I don't care much about that."

"A man would never understand." Anne shook her head and sighed. Of course there was no way he would understand, and Anne doubted that any other woman could either. After having lived years under constant observation, eyes whispering resentment and over judging looks, she appreciated every kind of kindness and confidentiality.

"You could try to explain." Anne rolled his eyes, dismissing the playful gleam in his eyes.

"You need to leave, now." She took his hand and pushed him through the door. Luckily, he did not put up any resistance and soon, she shut the door. With a sigh, she called for her maids, in order to help her redress, while sending one to retrieve paper and a feather.

_My dear Elizabeth,_

_Not much time had passed since my departure and yet, I cannot express the yearning inside my chest to see you again. Do you miss me? For I miss you very much already, my daughter and I fear it is growing every minute you two are away from me. I hope you and your brother are faring well without me. I have to admit that I worry much about you, although I do trust you and know what a reasonable daughter I am blessed with. However, Darien might be a different matter, he is a wild boy.**  
**_

Anne pondered on a moment on whether she should mention that he was taking after her father. The subject had always been delicate, especially since Elizabeth was old enough to know exactly what had happened. She had to admit that she and her daughter rarely spoke of Henry, partly out of her fear for any resentment directed towards her. Perhaps it was unreasonable and silly, but she could not help it.

_I hope you are not angry at my choice to leave so suddenly. The affairs here at court are soon over and like I had promised you, I will get home as soon as possible. So rest assured._

Anne bit her lip, wondering how she would continue writing. There were so many things she wanted to tell her daughter, she felt uncomfortable leaving out so many important mentions. On one hand, she did not want to burden her and on the other, she knew, as she was aware of her daughter's high intelligence and observation skills, that her daughter was not fooled by her words or at least, she did not completely trust them.

_There are so many things I wish to tell you, but I am neither sure whether it is appropriate to tell you nor I am sure whether I want to burden you. You deserved the best, Elizabeth and I hope you know that. You are my beloved daughter and as a mother, I want what is the best for you and yet, there is a side in me. Her selfishness scares me, for her desires are above yours. Sometimes, I feel it pulse strongly inside me, like now; when I wish so much that you were here at my side. But as I have already said, you are the most important thing to me, Elizabeth and of course, your brother as well. Thus, I will wait until the day I will see you again, which I hope by God, will not take long and take the both of you in my arms. Until then, I will dream of the day._

_In loving,_

_Your mother, Anne._

Anne put the writing instrument away and starred at her letter. Somehow, it turned out much more emotional than she had first intended. It had been so long since she had written a letter that came honestly out of her heart. It is such an irony that it would land in her daughter's small hands, a copy of the last receiver, whom she had unburdened her heart to. Surely, she and her daughter shared a deep and loving relationship that cannot be argued. It was the written letter in general. She did not know why herself, but she had gotten used to expression her emotion as formal as possible in a letter. The times she and Charles exchanged letters, at times when he was at court or in his own home, she would still keep her distance. It was not meant as an insult against him nor was she trying anything, playing, like Charles had at times implied. She guessed that it was some kind of defense mechanism.

She folded the letter and got up, with the intention to send it out as soon as possible.

* * *

"Charles, I did not expect to find you there. What a coincidence." Charles looked up, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Not as much as a surprise for you to be here." He knew that it was not the coincidence for them to meet up here, as Henry would have liked him to believe. "I know you, and I fear that there is another reason behind your visit in this library than wanting to broaden your knowledge."

"Indeed, you know me too well, my friend." Henry chuckled. "Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you about." The amusement and playfulness in his eyes made way for a somberness, which alerted Charles.

"What is so important that the King forsakes his duties and instead come to me?" he joked.

"I heard that you and Catherine are separated."

"Yes, that is true. We have been for quite some time."

"Why is it that I have only heard from you now?"

"You know that I would have gone to you sooner or later, after all, you are the only one, who could grant us a divorce." Charles was a little bit irritated as to why Henry was so pushing, just as Henry was irritated to the unresponsiveness of Charles or actually, he was on a whole irked by his friend.

"Why did Anne knew this before me?"

"Had she told you that last night?" Charles asked, not quite believing that she would betray him in such a manner, especially to Henry. Well, maybe in hindsight it would not be that surprising, considering it **was** Henry.

"No. I just wanted to see whether she did. I guess I have my answer." He shrugged.

"What? Henry, why are you doing this?"

"I could ask you the same question!"

"Pardon me, my King, but I doubt-"

"Have you slept with her?"

Charles gave no reply. Instead, he was merely regarding his King. His words had been like a bucket full of icy water that rained over him. It made him feel cold, it caught him off-guard and in a way, it made him angry.

"Your Majesty, I believe it is better if I take my leave now. Enjoy your stay, I hope I could have given you the answer you had sought," Charles spat through his gritting teeth.

However, before he could pass his friend, Henry had already taken a hold of Charles' arm, preventing him from going further. Charles, somehow not surprised by this event, glanced at the part of his arm that was connected to him. Then, after a few seconds without anything spectacular happening, the Duke finally looked up the seething blue eyes of his sovereign.

"Are you going to her?"

This was it.

"What is your problem, Henry?" Charles nearly shouted in frustration, his hand running through his hair. He was really pushing him. Each word made him more and more furious.

"My problem is that you are fraternizing with my former wife." The King was fuming by now. "What is worse, you seem to prefer her over me."

"Well, last night, it did not make the impression that you consider her as your former and not your recent lover."

"So, you are satisfied with second best, knowing that I and four, if not more men, had her before you?"

He was pushing it!

Charles was seething by now.

"Do you plan on marrying her?" He knew himself that it was low of him to mention that. And deep down, Charles also knew that there was not verity in his words, as both know, whether Henry could ever dare to admit this to himself, that Anne is, could and never would be second best. To nothing. No one. She would always be the first. In a way, Charles found it sarcastic and ironically cruel that Henry had been the first to see that, but in the end, he was the only one who still remembers.

"I would make a wonderful father to Elizabeth. She has said so herself dozens of times before and I doubt that she would have a problem against an union between me and her mother, especially since she knows that I going to treat her mother much better than you and also be a wonderful father to her, as you had never been."

* * *

"Tell me, child, have you seen the Duke of Suffolk?"

After Anne had asked the servant, he had given her a piece of paper.

_The library._

She frowned, wondering as to why he would go through so much trouble, just to meet her. It almost seemed ridiculous, at least in her eyes, but she guessed that others would agree with her on that term. But oh well, she had promised to meet him up and if he wanted to meet her in the library for whatever reason, she suspected that she had no other choice but follow his plead. Of course, not after she had retrieved someone to send away her letter.

Thus, after she had finished her little task, also having taking a small bit of food, which could not even be considered a breakfast, she went on to the library. During her walk, she examined the interior design of the place. It was funny that nothing seemed to have changed and yet, it seemed different to her. She was still glued on this thought, when she suddenly heard a loud thud. It surprised her and the violence of the sound made her wince.

She wondered what had happened.

Shortly after that thought, the answer seemed to arrive in the form of Henry, her former husband. Of course, it should not be a surprise to realize he was the cause of such an uproar. She wondered what matter had angered him that much, judging from his appearance, wondered whether it was truly as serious or if it was just as trivial as all the other fights they had.

"Your Majesty," she greeted him.

"Anne-" He stopped in his tracks and looked at her, as if the mere sight of her had made him contemplate something.

Anne stood there, letting him think of whatever was crossing his mind, all the while trying to appear calm and unmoved by his presence. It was harder than she let her appearance lead on, as she remembered his words from last night very well. Those words were actually repeating over and over again in her mind, much like an attempt of her mind to try to figure out what they meant and in hope it might find something new.

"Are you on your way to see the Duke of Suffolk?" he inquired.

Anne blinked in astonishment. Did it mean he was just there as well? For what purpose then?

"I..." One daring glance to his eyes, which had cost her a lot of willpower, told her in an instant that she had to be careful in her answer. One wrong choice of words and he would explode. "No."

She wondered what might have happened, while she was on her way. Something grand must have transpired between those two, questionably former, friends that angered him in such a way. Anne worried for Charles, and at the same time, she felt her anger rise about the hypocrisy of her friend, who had reprimanded her to not catch the King's anger.

"No, I was not. I just meant to take a look at the library, in hope to quench my boredom. However, I was not aware that the Duke had intended to do so as well. Why were you asking, Your Majesty, if I may ask."

Henry was still patronizing her with an unreadable look in his eyes and although it was meant to conceive his emotions, the turmoil in his head, Anne could guess what he was thinking about. He doubted her words, not that she could blame him, as she would do the very same thing if she was in his stead. He was weighing out her words for the trustworthiness in them.

"I see," he merely said. Anne nodded, knowing that she would not get an answer to her question and although it irked her that she would not receive the information she had hoped for, she knew there was nothing she could do about it. She just hoped that when, or if, she was allowed to pass the King, she might get it from Charles.

"My lady, if you are so bored, why do you not take a walk with me?" Henry offered.

"I..." Anne was thrown in the next surprise again, when she heard his proposal. "I would love to," she answered him with a smile after a long while. He returned her smile; his blue eyes told her that he was satisfied with himself, which in turn made her angry, her pride hurt. She pondered whether he was intentionally asking her so that she would not be able to meet Charles, as she had promised, knowing that her words from before were a lie.

"Would you like to take a walk through the garden?"

"Whatever you prefer." She followed him to the garden and away from the library. Without Henry noticing, Anne threw a glance to the side, her thoughts lingering on Charles, who was probably still waiting for her. It was not as if she was to blame and yet, she felt guilty for leaving him waiting, while she was spending her time with Henry. But he forced her. It was not like she had a choice.

She guessed that she had to wait for Charles's enlightening reply, as much as he had to wait for her now.

"Today we are quite blessed with a beautiful weather." Henry claimed and looked to the sky.

"So it seems, my King," Anne agreed. She glanced at her arm, which was intertwined with his by the elbow. She could barely remember when he had offered her his arm.

"It is fine. Just call me Henry."

"Of course." Actually, it was not.

Anne felt the urge to question him. Inside, she was screaming at him, angry and confused and there was also the part inside of her, which had assumed that the time where she would or could call him in that manner again, was lost forever. By the way he was acting she felt that part starting to grow inside of her by time.

"Was there something special you wanted to talk to me about?" Anne inquired.

"I could, but then I would prefer spending our few time with a more enjoyable talk or even silence, than bothering you with them. After all, you have to hurry up to return to Charles, do you not?"

Anne continued walking, but she had averted her gaze so that he could not look at her. She was making her face, not wanting to reveal any confirmation to him.

"Your Majesty..." There was probably something she should have said and she would have, if only something would come to her mind. Actually, there were quite a few words that came to her mind, but none which she found appropriate nor convincing enough. "Why are you so interested in Brandon?"

"Maybe I had been wrong, but from the looks of it, I had assumed that Charles had angered you in a way." It was no explanation or maybe, it was just not enough. Maybe, she just did not understand.

"He had." Anne confirmed, not knowing quite what he was hinting at with his statement. "You seem surprised," she noted furthermore.

"It is just interesting to me,"

"In which way?"

"It is merely hard for me to believe your words." He turned his head and looked at the wall of green leaves.

"And here you are doubting my words again." Her words caused him to turn back to her again and that was when he noticed the playful gleam in her eyes again, which, unconsciously, made him smile just because it was so contagious.

"I never said that I doubted your words," he reasoned.

"What is it then?" Anne asked again, more curious than annoyed.

"What you had told me, it seemed so..." He made a wave with his hands. Anne raised her eyebrow. "trivial. As if it had no importance that he angered you."

For an instance, she could not comprehend his words or the meaning of them. It was beyond her where his problems laid. But then, it dawned her.

"You cannot understand why I had forgiven him... for angering me…" Of course, this made sense. Anne then smiled and leaned back a little bit, observing Henry from the side. She should not have been surprised at his confusion. Someone like him surely must have problems understanding the concept of forgiveness. "I think the better question is: why I should not forgive him."

She chuckled at the still confusing look in his eyes.

"Your Majesty, you have to understand, all that Charles had done was to care for me. Sometimes, we both have different opinion as to what is the best for me. You know me; sometimes I am far too stubborn for my own good." With one look and one false mention, her smile, although never moving, turned bitter. But just for one second. "It is not trivial of me to forgive him, but it would be inane for me to resent him for something trivial."

"So you decided to overlook it so easily?"

"I am not." Anne replied instantly, feeling a little bit frustrated. Her children acted the same way, when they did not understand a concept she was trying to teach them. Now she knew where they had gotten it from. However, whereas it was adorable with her children, it was a little bit of a bother with Henry. They were children and Henry was an adult, or at least, should be.

"What else do you consider it to be then?"

"I have learned to let go during these years." Anne replied. Somehow, she did not feel the urge not the energy to entertain him anymore. Partly, she also feared that she might say something she is surely going to regret. "I think it would be better if I go now."

_Charles is waiting for me. _This is what Henry read from her words.

"No!" Henry exclaimed, grabbing her hand. With a yelp, Anne felt herself being pulled back to him. She gazed back at him, surprise mixed with disbelief. Her eyes darted to her wrist, which was still caught in Henry's hands.

"Why?" She asked her voice void of any emotion. The only thing he could hear from her voice was the roaring indifference.

"I..." She was waiting for his answer, oblivious to herself and her gaze, which lingered on his lips. She looked as if she was anticipating his answer, but this could not be. When she was sure that Henry would not finish his sentence, that she would never hear it, Anne let another few moments pass by. Silence was the only thing that could be heard, besides the loud rushing of the wind at the leaves, and for each, their hearts beating furiously against their chest, each out of a different reason. Finally, Anne, having collected enough courage, she rose her head, her gaze meeting his eyes.

And then she smiled.

"I have to go now, Henry." It was the first time that she had called him by his first name.

Suddenly, it sounded so foreign to her.

* * *

_The worst thing is holding on to someone, who does not want to be held on to._


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

**A/N: **I know, it has been quite some time, since I had updated and on top of that, there are even mistakes. Well, the thing is that my beta has been missing or is quite busy, I do not know quite sure right now. I apologize for the mistakes and for the long time it had taken for me to upload this chapter. I hope that you enjoy this chapter nonetheless. 3

**angel0014:** I am happy to read the part with in between the lines. Some might have noticed that there are quite a few things hidden in between the lines, and no, they are not a coincidence. I love that kind of writing, although I always have to try to make sure it is obvious there is more than what is on hand. Therefore, I am really really glad to know that it worked in some way.

**Lady Isabelle Black**: No, Darien is not Charles' son, that least I can assure you that much. I had never seen it this way, until you have pointed that out and I also have to admit that for a small time I played with the idea. But... no, he is not, as great as it would be...

* * *

**Chapter 8:**

People always yearn for what they cannot have, dream of what could be and sometimes of things that cannot be changed. We long for the impossible, reach for what is beyond us.

But why is it that most of the time, we want something that should better be left untouched?

So often, there is attraction towards the forbidden and love this attraction, on either sides. Enjoying the attention and the attraction, despite knowing that it is wrong. So often, they neglect to care for the consequences. They cannot even provide a proper explanation as to why, because they had not cared to think about it before.

When a married man falls in love with another - or maybe it is not even that- when he is attracted to her and would do anything for her, then it is passion.

When a man, who has been nothing but a friend and companion before, falls in love with another friend, it is sometimes curiosity.

When a woman continues to run after a man, because he had rejected her for unknown reasons, it is called pride.

* * *

"Anne!" It was only after the second time that he had called her out that she heard him. She turned around, despite the fear and panic which had wrapped itself tightly around her heart.

"Charles," she barely breathed out. He was standing before her, she knew, even without looking directly at him. She wondered whether he was mad. Without a doubt, he would have been, however the silence which he let them be engulfed them, led her to doubt.

"You have truly been with him, have you not?"

"What?"

"Were you just with Henry." He merely repeated what he already knew, so it was not a question on his part. Yet, an answer he expected nonetheless. He needed an reassuring or not, in that case he would have preferred a denial on her part.

"Yes, but how did you know?" she asked softly. She hoped that he was not mad at her, for not coming to him, for making him wait, just like he had previously hoped, despite knowing better, for a 'no' on her part.

Charles grimaced, when he remembered the exact moment when realization had dawned on him.

* * *

_Charles had waited for Anne, after the King had stormed off. His instincts and anger told him to follow after him, to tell him his piece of mind, to just say anything and every thought that had piled up inside of him since those six years. But instead, he stayed, in hope that Anne would soon arrive. He was looking through the shelves, his eyes strayed to the window, just sitting around. He was trying to occupy himself, until she came._

_And he would have continued to wait for her, had it not been the young boy that arrived there._

_"Your Grace." He nodded._

_"What are you doing here?" he asked the little boy._

_"I had come here to inform the Lady of Pembroke that the letters has been successfully send, as she had wished to." Charles frowned._

_"The Lady Anne has already sent the letter?"_

_The boy nodded his head in demur manner._

_"Very well, I will tell the Marquess." Charles paused, appearing to be stuck in his own thoughts. Suddenly he chuckled. "But I guess she is taking longer than I thought." With one hand he went through his hair, sighing in half frustration. His eyes flickered to the young boy, when he saw him squirm, even more when he met his critical eyes. He knew from experience, from both sides, what these actions signalized. The boy knew something, he just had to hit the right points, until he would tell. A weird feeling in his stomach told him that whatever news he bear, they were not good._

_"Is there something you want to tell me?" Charles with a fierce scorn in his voice._

_"No," he boy squeaked. He was still young, still easy to intimidate._

_"Are you lying to me, boy? For if I get wind of that, just any hint or even a dust small doubt that you had-" The spark of fear that shone in his eyes was enough to make Charles halt in his threat. Apparently, it was even easier to put fear into their heads than before. Well, he was surely not one to complain._

_"The Marquess had wanted to come to the library."_

_"But?" The slow answer or the bits of it he received were annoying him._

_"That was almost an hour ago and half ago," he explained._

_"So you say that the Marquess has gone lost?" It was absurd, there was no way that Anne, no matter how long it has been since she had left, it was not reason enough to-_

_"I...," the boy stuttered, which threw Charles into annoyance. He would have yelled again, if it were not for the words that followed thereafter, "I had heard that she was last seen with the King..."_

_The servant may had said something else, but truth to be told, Charles had stopped listening to him when his ears caught the words King._

_King._

_Hm._

**_King._**

_He probably meant King Henry._

_Of course he did. There was no other King here, other than Henry._

_Henry._

_She was with King?_

_Damn, she was with **Henry!**_

_Maybe the boy would have been able to tell him more, but he guessed that after Charles had slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a little big hole as a consequence, and afterwards staying silent, aside from the furious glare he shot at the ground, he had done a runner._

_His frame was shaking and he was not sure for how long he stayed there, but what he knew was that when he considered himself calm enough, he gripped the handle of one of the books in his vicinity of his hand, which was still glued to the wall and actually, it had not been his intention nor did he truly register what his hands were doing, but when he finally became aware, the book was already gliding on the air across the library._

_But oh well, it was not like he had the time to care for the precious, almost relic worthy band of pages. No, he was far too occupied with finding either Anne, Henry or his sanity. __Maybe a little bit of each._

* * *

"A servant may have given me a small hint," he chuckled darkly, still grimacing.

"They saw us together?" Anne asked worriedly, her gaze falling on the floor, signalizing Charles that she was deeply in thought.

"Why would you care," he scoffed quickly.

"Charles, I had not wanted to make you wait for me," she defended herself "but what choice did I have left? He asked me to to accompany him and I could not tell him that I was already meeting you!" Anne explained. She had expected him to be hurt, perhaps even angry, no that was a lie. She had expected him to be hurt, but she had not expected him to _try_ to hurt her.

"And why not?"

"Because something, I do not know, perhaps it was the angry look in his eyes, when he stepped past the library door, or maybe it was the hiss underneath his tone, when he barfed at your name, but I just freely assumed that you had angered him in a way." She rolled her eyes.

When Charles stayed silent, when instead he would have encountered something to her words, she knew that the only reason was that there was nothing to say. Because he had angered Henry. She had put it straight to the point.

"Charles, what had happened?" Anne wanted to know, her voice laced with worry again. She touched his arm gently and for the first time in a long while, Charles felt the urge to... He could not quite decipher what exactly it was, but he tried to undermine it the best way he could.

"I don't want to talk about that." He sighed in frustration.

"Well, how can I help you, when you don't even tell me?"

"What makes you believe that you have to help me, or us? Maybe I don't even want you to help me. Have you considered that?" She had to admit that she was a little taken aback at his rebuff and for one second, she was not sure how to answer to his rash reply. But slowly, as her mind started to process his words, the anger began to built up inside her, second by second.

"I had assumed that friends would help each other, when they are in troubles, but maybe I am too inexperienced in that field or maybe I was wrong to assume that in the beginning."

"I did not mean to-"

"Fine!" She huffed crossed her arms across her chest, taking in an impatience stance.

"What do you expect me to do?" Charles sighed, again, running his hand through his hair. Lately, he tended to do it, more often than he would have liked. It was becoming a habit he was not fond of, especially when people keep pestering in that continuous fashion. He sighed and eyed the angry, if not furious woman in front of him. It was not intention to shut her out, actually, it was the contrary. For so long he had tried to open up to her, to let her get inside him and share their problems, ... more than they already do.

And it was such a irony, he mused.

For so long he had pursued that goal, but it was way easier said than done. That was something he had to learn, for while he might strove for their relationship to improve, it was difficult, when the other part did not allow that to happen. And now, when Anne was finally showing some signs of interest on him and his problems, it seemed that he was impeded by God's justice, or irony, or whatever, he did not know.

"Why were you even arguing? I know that your relationship has not been the best, lately," actually she had just assumed this and also assuming that she might be the reason, but that she would never reveal to him. "But I also know that you are close friends, so tell me, what cause had such a big magnitude on you that it ended so badly?"

Oh dear, how he wished to tell her. Everything.

Just... everything.

"I cannot," he muttered instead and took a step back.

"Why can you not tell me?!" Anne demanded.

"Because I don't want to," he tried to explain, throwing his arms open

"What was it even about, Brandon?"

"Anne, leave it be."

"Was it about-"

"Anne!"

Well, that she did not expect.

Anne was able to recount the rare times he had ever raised his voice at her on one hand. Of course, meant during those last six years. That was what she had loved about him, that he would never dare to shout at her, for that he respected her far too much to do that. Not like him...

But of well, everyone had their limits, and every now and then, it would happen that we are easier to push than others.

It was just not excuse enough for her. Not right now.

"Maybe," she began, blinking a few times, not quite having registered what he had done, "it might be better if I leave now. I think that we both would need the time." With that she turned around. Inwardly, she let out a deep breath, wondering what this place was doing to them. How she wished that she had had a choice, for then she would have prevented them from coming here and perhaps she would not feel like she was stuck in the friendship she had enjoyed escaping into so much.

"Anne, wait!"

"Why, just so you can leash out your anger to me again?" she leashed back, whipping around.

"Damn, I did not meant to say that," he said, as if it would justify it.

"Well then, what did you mean by that?" Because they both knew that this was exactly what he had meant, just expressed harsher than he would have liked.

"Why can you not accept my choice?"

"Why, because this is what is the best for us?"

"Yes!"

"You are such a hypocrite!"

"And what about you?"

"What about me?" she shot back.

"Will you tell me what had happened between you and Henry? After I tell you what you want to know, or think you want to know?" Charles asked, his hand gripping her wrist tightly.

"But you would never do that, will you..." Anne turned her head away, whether in denial or in fury, one might guess. But for Charles, it sufficed as an answer.

"But what if I do?" He tightened his grip a little bit. Only, when she whimpered, he realized how harshly he was treating her. In an instant he let go of her hand, almost as if her touch burned him, when instead it was his' that was dangerous.

"Will you?"

"And you?" he asked her, bitterly teasing her, while starring into the blue orbs that were her eyes and for a minute, he swore, he could have lost himself in them and for sure, he would have also forgotten the purpose of their talk. He heard her sigh, she probably was not even aware of her own reaction, and slowly, she started to look somewhere, anywhere but him.

"See," he chuckled darkly. "Maybe it is better, if we allow each other to keep our secrets."

But the thing was that during their, albeit young, friendship, they had never kept any secrets from each other, never intentionally... or not. The thing was that starting to keep secrets was only the beginning.

* * *

The day had started ...

Anne wished she could have said that it had started with a promising morning, in which she could drew out hopes that it was going to be better and that she might be able to enjoy some little piece of serenity and peace. However, if she had to be frank, it started as confusing as she had imagined her days to be from now on, the moment she entered this hole of personal hell and to make the day even more outstandingly surprising, it ended even more confusing and chaotic than it had begun.

Her heart ached at the remembrance of the day's incidents. Along the memory came her wish to forget just all of it.

Anne closed her eyes. It was sad in which manner darkness seemed to be the only source from which she could drew out solace from. As a child, she had always despised the darkness, found it too scary and too... dark. Yet, she welcomed it, embraced the darkness, for it stood as a symbol for the only time in which she was able to truly forget. Even if it was more of pushing the memories and feelings she harbored away, for just a few moments, only to encounter it with the double force the next time.

No matter how much Anne turned around, to the left, to the right and back again. She always ended up lying on the back and just as much as she could not help finding herself in that position, she raised up her hands, looking at her wrist. It was impossible to make out the lines of her hands at all, as the curtains and the night had blackened her sight. But in spite of this, she still could see. Before her very eyes, she could see the hand-prints of both men on her skin.

They felt weird.

It was as if she could still feel their hands on hers', their touch and presence still lingering on her and for the moment, she was marked by their caress. She bit her lip. No matter how much she turned and whatever she did in attempt to erase their presence, it was in vain. She could barely perceive the time that had passed, but it felt like forever since she had went to bed.

She hated them, hated them for stealing her peace, away from her children, even if to Henry it was merely one child. To make matters worse, they are now taking away her sleep from her as well. With a frustrated sigh, she gripped the sheets, intending to throw them over, since she would not get any sleep in any time soon. But in the last second, she changed her mind and leaned back into her cushions. Of what use would it be anyway? So what if she will not get her rest? It does not mean that she had to forsake the warm and soothing feeling of her bed, even if on the inside, she could feel neither of it.

She turned to the right side, the hand of the very side tucked underneath her head. She regretted it in an instant, as this position forced her to regard her left one. It was the one Charles had grabbed today. A bit too tight, if she had to admit. She had not even noticed before, only after they had parted ways, mutual, although more on her than him. She wondered whether a bruise would appear.

Indeed, he had grabbed her too harsh, too tight, just too much.

Like their relationship, Anne mused.

She could not understand the reason, why he had had to hold on so tightly, but moreover, she wondered why let him for so long. She could have easily yanked back, yet she did not. She also wondered about the incident between Henry and him, what might have happened to push those two away and into so much anger. She had seen the look in both of their eyes today and she did not like it. A certain dread settled on her stomach, whenever she thought about it. They were both incredulously stubborn and not to mention spoiled, even if none of them would ever admit it, and neither of them knew what was good for the and where the fun has to end.

It was an instinct, when she turned around.

She was not even aware of what, or to be more precise _of whom_, she had been doing, whilst thinking of him, until her left hand was the one now lying under her head and the right one, the one he had held on to, was facing her. It was to her disbelief, as she starred at the certain junction between her hand and her arm. So whilst Charles' grip left behind an every now and then aching pressure on her joint, Henry's touch seemed to be burning. Her skin, after all this time, felt like it was on fire, even though so much time had passed since he touched her. The worst thing was that it was like a fever, spreading from one point over to her whole body.

She had to be careful, she reminded herself and of the words he had spoken.

His words, and the expression in his eyes and when he had wrapped his finger around her wrist, all of this left Anne in question and yet, there was a dread inside her stomach as though her body already knew, when her mind did not. At least her mind recognized it as dangerous, this fire or _his_ fire, was not something she could play with. She had already done so and she deeply regretted it, maybe not as much for the sake of her children, but it was indefinitely something she would refuse to repeat.

For no matter how much her incident with him replayed in her mind over and over again, no matter how much the small sparkle that exploded for a minimal second inside her, when he touched her nor the sudden warmth inside her whole body that surprised and overwhelmed her, as it reminded her of what his touch felt and still feels like.

Anne closed her eyes bitterly. Why did he have to touch her. Did he not know what it caused her? Was he intentionally being cruel?`Had he not considered...

No, of course he did not. It was Henry, her former husband, they were talking about. He sparred no one a thought of his and when he did, it was either a spur of the moment or when it was convenient to him. She had always suspected this, but learned, she did that in a hard way. It had almost cost her life. It was something she did not want to repeat, she could not.

She did not dare to.

She had already been on the brink of being burned wholly, but now, now that she knew, she refused to perish in his ... passion.

* * *

He did not even why he bothered. Why did he care? And why did he even try to answer those questions?

From all of those questions, the latter was the only one, to whom he had an answer to. He wondered, because it all made no sense. Charles knew there was no use in doing what he did, bothering whatever was on his mind and caring for something that was inevitable.

But he did.

He did wonder, it did bother him what was happening right now and he cared for what would be the consequence of it. Above all, the relationship that was developing between Henry and Anne bothered him the most, just as much as he cared for what had happened between him, knowing that Anne would never reveal it and what would happen if he let things go the way he dreaded they were going. But who was he kidding? It was not true, their relationship did not need to develop, it was already there.

He even guessed that it was already there, before they had ever met each other.

It was just their way that sometimes make it seem as if they had belonged to each other. The way their personalities could mold into each other was impressive, so impressive that sometimes it led outsiders believe it would be an outrage for them not to be with each other. Well, that was what used to be expected. They are now separated. They are no longer together and Henry had found another woman to warm his bed and bear him sons. On the other hand, he was still pursuing her.

Or was he?

From all that had happened, one might think so. If Charles was not Anne's friend, he would think so as well. But he was Anne's friend, and for her sake, at least this is what he tried to tell himself, he refused to recognize it as such.

Anne was a wonderful woman.

He had never known that and if it had not been for Henry, stupid, dumb and foolish Henry, who had forsaken her for another and who had made him see Anne, he would have never came to see that. See, how wonderful and wonderfully magnificent she was, as a person **and** as a woman, most of all as a mother. She could not get together with Henry. It was beyond everything that was healthy for her, she deserved more than that, she deserved someone, who cared for her.

He wondered if she was aware of that herself.

Charles suspected sadly that she did not. Otherwise, she would have been wise enough to stay away from him. Of course, it was impossible to stay away from the King, when it was something he wanted. Nobody could escape the King's wants. They all had to obey his every whim. But it was not fair. Henry was the one, who had let her go, he was the one, who had made it all happen.

The fall-out between Henry and Anne, Darien, the friendship between Anne and him, that was all his fault and now, he wanted to undo everything that had turned out so perfectly, well in Charles' life that is. He could not let Henry intervene in his and Anne's life, the one they had developed over the years and which had grown into his heart, if not his life.

But why exactly?

Why could he not just let things happen the way... in a way, in which he could say he did not care? After all, they were both his friends and there would always the possibility that they could make each other happy. No, they would surely be able to make each other happy and Charles, as much as he hated it, was sure they still loved each other. It was merely layered beneath all the hate, the fake and the biggest obstacle their pride. But they were also able to make each other so miserable incomparable in any fashion.

Besides, Anne was ... just too great for him. She deserved more, there was no denying that. She deserved to be respected, admired for the person she was and to be loved, wholeheartedly and without regrets and second thoughts. And he was convinced that this was beyond what Henry was capable of.

However, what did it say?

He sighed.

The thing is that Charles wished so much that he did not care. But it was not possible, because he cared. Because he loved.

And sometimes he wished he did not.

* * *

"Our son is very lively," Jane whispered tiredly. Henry replied her with a mere smile. He put her in her bed and turned the lights off.

He held her hand, because she had requested this to him. With a sigh, he had fulfilled her request, just like he was sleeping in her bed and not in his own. However, the latter decision was more out of guilt towards her rather than on his own account. If he had had a choice, he would have left her room much earlier, letting her rest well. Actually, he would have not even stayed, but just came and bid her good night. But he had already forsaken her during the noon, when he had taken a walk in the garden with Anne, instead of coming to her like he had promised yesterday night.

His thoughts strayed back to that time. Today had been quite eventful and when he tried to recollect everything, he could feel the anger rise inside him again. First Charles, and then Anne. Why, in the name of God, did they seem to do anything that was necessary to push his buttons? With tight lips, he closed his eyes, trying to control his anger. He could not lose control, not when his pregnant wife was near him.

He had not even noticed, but his anger had caused him to hold Jane's hand too tightly. Quickly, he loosened up his grip. He would have liked to turn away, but he reminded himself of his promise to Jane. Usually, he would have done as he pleased, he would have turned around by now, if it was any other time. But this time, it was different. As much as he would have loved to deny it, he was acting out of guilt. It was not hard to decipher his reason, but now, when his and Jane's hand were intertwined, memories of today's noon were rising back and playing before his very eyes.

He closed his eyes, like in a miserable attempt to escape them.

However, in doing so, it caused the images just to become more vivid, as they plagued him. Against his will, the moment, when Anne had yanked her hand away from him, turned her back in order to go to Charles, was the most excruciating one. He did not even know why! It just... It bothered him greatly, more than he would have liked to be bothered by it. His mind, as an effect of the images, went back to his argument with Charles. It had not been in his intention, but somehow it just ended up as an argument between them. Maybe it was just an misunderstanding. Maybe his suspicion about the relationship between Charles and Anne was indeed just a result of his vivid and far too paranoid imagination.

But what about that possessiveness he had detected in Charles' eyes?

Above all, he could not forget the fact that his friend was separating from his wife, meaning that he was available for _any other woman._ Surely, he had not separated from his wife, just for Anne... But what about his words? Especially when he claimed to be a better father for Elizabeth! Henry felt rage rise inside him, yet again. His friend had acted so audacious in front of him... and the irony he failed to notice, due to his anger, was that it was all for Anne, the one Charles had once claimed to hate and vowed to take down.

With a sigh, Henry closed his eyes. It was confusing. He told himself that it should not bother him, he should not care that Anne was bonding with Charles. After all, she was merely his former wife, an old acquaintance and the mother of his child at the most. That was the only reason he called for her presence, under the pretense that it was necessary for the royal reputation. He could not let anyone know his true intention...

As Henry opened his eyes again, assured from his more than less convincing debate, he became aware of the pressure he put on his dear wife. Maybe it was better to let her hand go, it was surely more comfortable for both of them, maybe even leaving her room, but he realized that even if he had made up his choice now, it was not possible.

Jane was holding his hand. And since it was not in his mind to harm his child, after all his mother needed her sleep, he stayed that way. He stayed in the room.

But it was just so damn cold there.

* * *

When a married man falls in love with another - or maybe it is not even that- when he is attracted to her and would do anything for her, then it is passion.

When a man, who has been nothing but a friend and companion before, falls in love with another friend, it is sometimes curiosity.

When a woman continues to run after a man, because he had rejected her for unknown reasons, it is called pride.

But when a person starts to yearn for a love, they know they would never receive of the person they knew would neither be able to fully love them nor were worthy of their yearning, it is called a shame.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.

**Title**: Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary**: Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love? HenryxAnnexCharles

**helenamtavares**: Well, like it is already stated, the story is centered on Henry and Anne as a couple, but Charles is nevertheless an important character, actually as important as both of them. I know that this was not that clear, since Charles is mentioned quite often here, but let's just say it was just starting. And just because Henry and Anne are in the main focus, does not necessarily mean that they would end up together. They could end up together ... or they might not, everything is still open and just see where the story is heading to^^

**Note:** Concerning this little triangle, I had made up a poll. So if any of you feel like they have to vote for their favorite paring, because it would be worse than death if they do not end up together, then please, just go on vote ;)

* * *

**Chapter 9:**

The days continued to pass in a drearily pace, as Anne, Charles and Henry avoided each other at all cost.

Everything had turned out so different than what she had expected. When she had arrived and it had not been even that long, she had always assumed that Charles would be there for her. She had foolishly depended on his presence, which she could lean on and a shoulder to comfort her. She wondered how their relationship, which had always fared so smooth, turn so sour in such a short time.

It was as though the place was cursed. Barely a second had passed when Charles and her got into a fight, or was it a misunderstanding? It was a misunderstanding in her eyes, but it was not like she was in the right state of mind to judge. Perhaps it was just that she would have liked to believe it was a misunderstanding? But what was there to misunderstand? Were things not clear enough? How was it even possible to misunderstand when she had assumed that they knew each other well enough to avoid such things?

Or perhaps she would have just liked to believe this?

And what would it mean if it was not a misunderstanding?

The accusation, not only in his words, but mostly she saw the accusation in his eyes whenever he looked at her after he believed something had happened. The fury and, what haunted her the most, the disappointment in them hurt more than any accusation he could throw at her. They set something off in her. But this was not the only reason she avoided Charles. It was furthermore the reason she avoided Henry.

The last memories of their last encounter were still plaguing her mind, putting her in emotional disarray. In addition to Charles' words, his suspect of being more than what might seem at first sight and suspect of a growing interest in Henry made her doubt grow further. It was not that she feared the truth in the outcome. She feared for herself, for she was slowly beginning to believe that it was not mere suspect and fear that lied behind Charles' words, especially not after what had happened in the garden. What would this sudden turn of event mean for her? Would it have any signification? What did she think about it? She hoped...

Henry, with his dangerously sweet words and his manner towards her that was more than worthy of suspect, was easier to avoid as she had suspected. Whether he was avoiding her as well, as Charles and Anne were ignoring each other, she had no idea. However, she could not complain and neither could she spend too much time thinking about it, she could care less as long as it left her at peace. Besides, it was in order for her to sort her things out, before the next storm came crashing down.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

"You may enter," she claimed and straightened her back. Anne was standing impatiently patient, while she heard the creaking door that signalized the entrance of whoever it might be.

"Milady," the woman in front of her curtsied, when she raised her head, of course after having received the approval of Anne, the Marquess noted a certain spark in the woman's feature that reminded her of something.

"Tell me, child, what is the reason that you made you come here?" Anne asked.

"I was sent by the Queen," she replied.

"The Queen?"

"I am one of he ladies-in-waiting," she explained further.

"You look very unusual in comparison to the rest of the other ladies," Anne remarked. Although this woman was acting demure and shy in front of her, her gut feeling told her that there was more than that to the servant girl. She may bow down to her, show her the respect that was due to her status, but the way she did it was different from the rest of her companion girls, although Anne was not sure how ti pinpoint this aspect. She just felt that this girl was not as innocent, demure and boring as the other ladies.

But what really set her aside from the group of ladies in waiting, was her appearance. She was not a typical Tudor rose. She did not have that fair complexion, like her mistress, but neither did she possess the dark skin of Anne's. Her hair was a dark color, not as dark as Anne's but surely in no way comparable to the Queen. Her facial expression was deeper, more edges and more defined. Again, differing from the innocent look of Jane.

"I was not chosen directly from the Queen. It was the King, who had granted me a position among her Queen's confidantes."

Those few words sent Anne's mind into alarm.

"Really..." Anne glanced at the woman, leaving her squirming under her gaze. "Tell me, child, what is your name again?"

"My name is Anne Bassett, milady." Of course, just as Anne had predicted.

Her gaze turned more intensive than it had already been before and Anne was now openly examining her. She was aware of the effect she had on her namesake and she enjoyed it. She knew exactly, who this woman in front of her was. Anne Bassett was rumored, although mildly until now, to be the new mistress of the King. Of course, he was keeping it pretty discreet, more discreet than he had been with Katherine, but not putting as much effort as he had with Anne herself. If it had not been for her sharp and not to say curious mind, she did not know whether she would have known. It was merely her eyes, the boring brown color that resembled Jane.

She wondered what meant more, her eyes or the rest of her appearance.

"Now tell me, why are you here?"

"I received the letter from the Queen. She told me to give this to you." With that she held her hands out, a letter held on them. She knew the seal that embroidered the letter. Quickly, she snatched it away from her hands. Without sparing any glance towards the maid, Anne tore it open. Indeed, it was a letter from her daughter, a reply to the one she had sent a few days ago. She was glad for the parchment, however she imagined that she would have been over-joyous, more than she was right now, for her joy was dimmed by the presence of the maid, the mistress of her former husband and the lady-in-waiting to the woman who had replaced her. The very same woman, who had intercepted her letter, something she had no right to.

"Was your mistress the one, who had had this letter?"

"I do-"

"Was she the one, who tore the seal down?!" She winced at Anne's tone, shrinking visibly.

"I-" Poor girl, in loss of her words and thrown in such a panic that she was not able to reply properly. This furthering her inability to do anything at all. Despite the haze of anger before her eyes, Anne was enough in the right state of mind to know that it was fruitless. Frustrated, she shouted at the girl to leave. With scornful eyes she watched the woman scramble her skirt and hurry off to the door. Even with closed doors, she could perceive the hurrying and frantic steps.

Inside of the room however, everything was perfectly still. The only sound that may be able to be heard was the crunching of the paper, as Anne slowly clenching her hands into fists. But as slow as her hands moved, the faster she ran out of the room, leaving nothing but a loud bang of the door as she threw it open, thus causing eerie and lonely silence to die out.

* * *

Anne had to admit later on that this sight had not surprised her. Why should it? Wine, women and a waste of time. What else would Henry use as a matter to pass his time?

"I need to talk to you," she merely hissed with a seething voice, the background lit with the sound of the door slamming. Anne marched towards the table, leaving barely time for most of the people to greet her as decorum demanded. "What is the meaning of this?" Anne slammed the letter on the table.

By now, most of the people had stood up from their seats, whether out of courtesy towards the Marquess or because of their mood was varying from each. Even the maid, who had been sitting on his lap, was no difference. Only Henry remained quiet. His gaze was directed towards the Marquess, his eyes not betraying his emotions and when their gazes met each other, the mood suddenly became ten degrees chiller and even more tense.

"What," she hissed slowly through her teeths, accentuating each word "is the meaning of this?"

Their eyes never left each other, Henry did not even look at the letter she had thrown on his desk among his card play.

"Marquess, I believe it is utmost in-"

"Get lost, Cromwell! This is a matter between me and Henry!" she shouted.

"Pardon me, Marquess, but-" he countered with an irritated voice.

"Leave, Cromwell." The calmness caused quite a surprise not only for Cromwell, but for his company as well. "You can all leave as well." But they were even more surprised at those following words.

"Your Majesty-"

"It was an order!"

With that each of the courtiers understood and obeyed his dismissal.

"I see..." Cromwell bowed although reluctantly and left. His exit was followed by the other courtiers, some of them throwing a curious and some a more of a murderous glare.

Anne did not need to look up to know that they had finally left, their steps and the sound of the closing door was enough to confirm it. She was far too occupied with bearding his look, even if she was not quite sure what his intention was. They were emotionless and usually, she would have assumed that he was angry and feeling insulted by her stunt. However, if so, then he would not have dismissed the gentlemen from the room. After all, it would be so much more time to humiliate her in front of them all. For a fact she knew that this was one of his favorite ways to bless the people who had graced his wrath. Plus, his eyes were unusually calm.

"Well, now that we are alone, will you finally give me a proper answer? And by the way you can also explain why the heck you had dismissed everyone. Surely, if you had just wanted to shout at me, you could have done it in front of them. After all, we all know how much you love to do that, no?"

"Very funny, Anne." Henry leaned back, his eyes never leaving hers. A smirk graced his face, irritating Anne even more. "So, why do you not tell me the reason you are so upset. Apparently upset enough to overlook decency that you always humble yourself with so much?"

"This letter," she took a hold of the said document and threw it at his chest this time. "It was opened before I got it!"

"And what especially is your problem?"

"This was a letter between me and my daughter," she whispered deadly. "It was for me and her and no one else. So explain me, for what reason in the world had your wife the right to open and read it without my consent?"

"It was not Jane."

"It was her maid, who delivered her. Maybe I shall call her by her name, Anne Bassett, you remember, do you not?"

"I do," Henry replied with a matter of fact voice. "However, it does not change my answer. It was not Jane, who had intercepted the letter." Henry sat up straight, his chin resting on his folded hands, while his elbows were on the table. He watched Anne with an expectant look.

"No, it was you," Anne realized. She had no actual clue, but his eyes were enough to confirm it. "But the question is, why did you do that?!" Anne chuckled darkly, her hands now placed on the table as well. She leaned forwards. An act of defiance, Henry noted, especially with those blazing eyes as they dared him.

He did not move from his position, but he kept his answer to him for a few more minutes, enjoying the sight in front of him. It was a chance to examine her every feature from the vicinity, in a way that would not have been possible if she was still aware of her intention to keep her distance from him.

"What is your answer?"

"Perhaps you might believe and maybe you are right when you claim that Jane had no right to do so. But I, on the contrary, had every right." Henry shrugged his shoulders.

"Since when did you care about her?"

"I always cared for her," Henry defended. Anne wanted to scoff at his answer. And he knew that. "After all, I am her father."

"So what if you are her father?" She narrowed her eyes, leaning even more forward than she already did. "She did not write this letter to you, but me! Whatever she wrote was not meant for you?"

"But Charles was?"

"What?!" Oh, now he was talking nonsense, out of the context.

_I miss you and Charles._

"I miss you and Charles?" He mimicked her words, almost in a mocking voice that Anne did not approve.

"Do not talk like that, when talking about or of my daughter!" She then warned him. "Besides, so what if she does? I see no wrong in this."

"No wrong?" Henry slammed his hands on the table and perhaps if Anne had cared to pay attention or if she had been anyone else, who would have cared about the King's wrath, thus watched his hand hit the wood, then she might have noticed how the cards had sprang, just a little bit, from their ground.

"No wrong?!" Henry repeated his words a second time, louder than before, but Anne could even barely make herself care, except for rolling her eyes at, in her regard, immature antics.

"Just say what you do not agree with at this point."

"Why don't you explain, why I seem to have lesser rights than Charles? As her father?"

"What? Henry, say that in clear sentences! People with a reasonable mind like me do not understand someone with heads like yours," or rather the lack of...

"Why had she even mentioned him? Why does she say that she misses him? I am her father!"

"For God's sake, Henry!" Anne took a goblet from the table, half empty, and threw it against the wall. The content flew, similar to the drinking vessel, across the room and just like the many splinters that resulted from the clash with the stoned wall, it was spread all over the room. "Do not dare to play the loving father now! Because **you** are not!"

"I am her father! Not Charles." He was seething by now. "It should be me she mentioned in her letter."

"What do you want!? What do you expect?" Anne threw her arms in the air. "Aside from Da- _the_ other male servants, Charles is the only fatherly figure she can and might ever come close to! Of course she would bond with him."

"No! She would not have, had it not been you." He pointed with accusing fingers at her and Anne wanted to go up and strangle him, threw another goblet at his head, slap him or-

She crossed her arms over her chest, pressing them dearly near to her, in an attempt to restrain her body.

"Why is Charles the one she is so close with? Because he is always there? He is always there, because of you."

"Are you saying now that it my fault now?"

"If it was not for your friendship," her skin tingled, when he spat the word describing Charles and her relationship, "she would never come to the thought to bond with him!"

"What is even wrong with her relationship with Charles? At least she has a male figure in her life she can learn to depend on! After all, you do are not doing that good of a job in this aspect, or maybe just not for her," Anne whispered the last part.

"It is unnatural." Strangely, he had not even objected to her argument.

"So what?" Somehow, this thought had just struck her in the spark of the moment, just when Henry had barely uttered the end of his sentence. "When **I** had to leave Elizabeth in the care of some maid that **I** barely knew, knowing that I will never get to raise her, watch her grow and be at every step in her life and serve as her guidance... knowing that I am leaving my motherly duties up to some woman I had to chose from a list, do you think that this is 'natural'?"

Apparently, this argument was convincing enough that Henry had nothing to say in that matter anymore. Just like him, Anne knew she had nothing to say anymore. Neither of them did.

"You know what? This is not getting more and more pointless and even more stupid I might dare to imagine. Just refrain from meddling in my relationship."

"Charles is not good enough."

"I meant with Elizabeth."

"I meant with her as well."

Anne was not sure whether she wanted to hear this. For Elizabeth's sake that is, of course.

"I am taking my leave now."

"That is up to her," she whispered.

When she closed the door, she found herself in the hall again. It was long, dark and silent. The silence reminded her of the scene that had barely passed, when Henry had nothing to say to her anymore and neither did she. Her back met the door. She leaned back, hoping that the barrier would serve as a thread she might hang on to, while closing her eyes.

She had not noticed until now, how exhausting their conversation had been, how much it was draining her soul and how his presence was damaging her spirit, until they were silent. She was out of breath. She could barely breathe and she felt so damn tired.

Anne took a deep breath, one hand pushing her hair away from her face, hoping to get a clearer view, even if she had and probably will never see things clearer than how they were now. The other hand went to her stomach, the part where the corsage that was demanded by the rules of the court, was constraining her. Her lungs and everything that she needed to breathe, to live, was imprisoned, leaving her barely hanging on.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

* * *

**Chapter 10:**

Ignorance was bliss.

Charles was in no way a coward, but he could not deny the fact that sometimes it was wonderful to ignore things. Forgetting his troubles for just one moment, where his mind was not filled by worries or what ifs. This small moment was a sweet consolation. Of course he was aware of the fact that it was not forever and that running away (although he would never admit it) from his problems was no answer. He was just... taking a small break.

Charles sighed.

"Charles -"

Both of them froze in their places when the door was yanked open, revealing the astonishing lines of the Marquess of Pembroke.

None of them uttered anything. The maid, who was still trapped between the wall and his Grace's posture, was truly not enjoying his advances anymore and not in the way she had just pretended before. It was not surprising, considering that the Lady, who is rumored to be the Duke's newest conquest or the other way around - the rumors are varying from each other at this point - was standing at the threshold, no mere feet away from them, catching her supposed lover with some other woman. And it was even more terrifying knowing of the rumors about her wrathful tantrums of jealousy over her rivals.

"I suppose I am imposing?" Anne spoke after what felt like a long time. The air was heavy with a tense silence, never ending nor broken, not even when Anne had spoken those few words. Although one has to say that it was not quite that loud either.

She was still waiting for a reaction, but neither Charles nor whatever the name of that loose maid was were moving, giving her any indication that they were going to respond to her question. Maybe it would have been better if she just left on her own accord. It would have been easy to turn around the corner, to just go up and leave. It would have even been most obvious thing to do, as those two did not seem to react in any way.

Yet she stayed. She waited.

"I..." Charles felt like being hunted. Every sense, every nerve in his body was set on danger and he was ready to defend himself and his life, ready to pounce on anything or anyone that seemed dangerous. But it was wrong. He could not do any of those things, nor were they needed, because he was not in danger, at least a physical danger that could harm his life. Even if his heart pounded against his chest and the way his sweat poured off his skin might lead one to believe so.

No, there was no danger, he tried to tell himself. His mind was blank, too nervous and too agitated. His mind seemed not capable of forming any words or any sense that would... yeah for what actually?

"Anne..."

It was probably time for him to talk, to utter more than just her name. But he had no idea what.

However, the moment her name left his lips, he had detached his arm from the wall. Apparently, it left enough room for the little maid to go up and leave. Anne would have laughed at the way she left, if she was not in such a sober mood. But no one could have denied that it was not hilarious the way that the little girl, who had been just caught with a married Duke with a promiscuous reputation for chasing every passing skirt, departed. But she just did not feel like laughing.

"Pretty fast legs that are carrying her..."

When she turned her head away from the direction she saw that flighty skirt escape from and back to Charles, the Duke recognized the dangerously amused gleam in her eyes. His heart clenched just a tiny little bit.

"What was her name?" Anne asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Now, there were three possibilities.

He could lie to her.

He could tell her the truth.

What would she say, what would she do if he told her the name?

What would she think if he told that he did not know?

"Why do you care?"

Anne's smirk faltered for a moment. As small as her action was, the bigger was his reaction to her. Anne shrugged her shoulders.

"You are right, this is not my business." She smiled wryly. Or was it sadly? He could not quite figure it out.

"If you want to, I could tell you." Well, and here he was, throwing all his resolutions on being uncaring and indifferent and the nonchalant attitude he had keep on working over the entire time. But oh my, at least it lasted longer than... at least it lasted for a short time...

"No..." Anne responded, slowly. "I don't want to know..." But then, both of them wondered why she had asked in the first place.

"Well, then..." Was he frustrated? "Why are you here?"

"I just..." It had been an impulse, if she dared to say so. She guessed it was all due to the distraught state she had been in that led her here. But what would it mean then? That he was her safe haven? Had he truly grown on to her as her solace, the one thing she could and would depend on whenever she had a problem?

"Can I come in?"

He shrugged his shoulder.

Anne bit her lip, for a moment wondering whether she should really take that step.

But what she would not like to admit to herself was that she was already too deep in this. She had fallen too far to go back.

Yet, despite her denial towards herself, her feelings, the whole truth of this situation, she felt it. For if not then she would not have probably, after barely having made the first step, ran straight into his arms. She threw her arms around his neck, pressing him towards her or herself to him, either way, she was holding on to him with her whole weight. As though he was the only safe anchor among the wild and faithless sea with waves, ready to drown her any minute...

"Anne..."

"I am sorry," she whispered in his neck for her face was cradled in the crook of his neck.

He opened his mouth. There was something he wanted to say. There were a lot of things he had wanted to say. But when he felt her arms tighten around him and when her wildly sweet fragrance surrounded his senses, he thought that maybe...

Charles wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face in her hair. He kept quiet.

"I am sorry..." Sorry for blaming him or sorry for involving him in a mess that had solely been hers?

He kept stroking her hair, while enjoying the sweet moment that warmed his heart and at the same time clench in question whether she was even aware of what she was doing, what she was doing to _him._

_"_It does not matter. Not as long as you are here," he assured her. Anne looked up, an unsure gaze in her eyes. He knew she wanted to say something as well, but just like him, she kept quiet.

* * *

"I have received a letter from Elizabeth," she told him. She had no idea, but somehow the both of them ended up sitting on a chair. One chair. Or rather, he ended up sitting on one, whilst she had somehow managed to sit on his lap, her legs dangling on his right side with her back leaning against armrest.

"Those are great news," Charles remarked.

"Yeah, one should think so." Her statement peaked up his interest.

"What had happened?" he asked, lifting his head up in order to look at her. "Is something wrong with Elizabeth? Or is it Darien?" To think that something might have happened to those two little children - although Elizabeth was not quite that little anymore - who had grown dear to his heart was quite a terrifying thought for the Duke of Suffolk.

""I do not quite know. I have yet to read it," she told him.

"What?" He managed to get a confused look on his face; he sat a little bit straighter and watched her form. That was in his arms...

"I was pretty mad, you know. Some maid, I think it was the one that he had an affair with during Jane's pregnancy or maybe she was the one after that, but what do I know nor do I care. Anyway, this morning I was presented with that very letter. I had been so happy, so relieved to know that my Elizabeth responded to my letter, as belated as it was. I cannot explain the rage I felt later on when I realized that I was not the one to read it first."

"Someone had read it before you?"

"Are you in the mood to guess who?"

"Surely, it was not..." He shot a worried glance towards the woman in his arms. "Surely, he..."

"Funny, how you seem to pick it up so quickly," Anne huffed. "I had believed that it was Jane."

A chuckle escaped his mouth; however it did not last long due to the glare Anne threw at him.

"Pardon me, Marquess. What had happened after that?"

It had been such a light atmosphere that Charles had not taken no notice of the walls that Anne still surrounded herself with. It was later on, after having expressed his question that and the following silence that made everything come back again. Apparently, even though this time it was her coming to him, it had not been enough to... No, at least there was a change, as little as it was.

"Well, I confronted him, we threw hateful words at each other and that was it." No, there was much more. She could have told Charles that his name had been raised, more than once and that he portrayed an important point of issue, the most conflicting one actually. She could have told him a lot of things, of Elizabeth and even how she had almost slipped her son's name in front of him. She could have and she knew that. During that little period of silence, she had to admit, she had contemplated on whether she should tell him.

And she had. Anne had told him what had happened, disregarding the fact that she had chosen to leave aside.

Somehow, she struggled with telling him _everything._

In his eyes she knew that he was aware of that. Perhaps he was a little hurt, but what was she to do?

The both of them stayed silent.

But suddenly, out of the blue, she heard him chuckle again. With a confused look in her eyes, she watched him continue to laugh. She had no idea what had caused his sudden amusement, yet she had a feeling it was at her expense.

"What is so funny?"

"You really believed that it could have been Jane?" he asked, stopping his fit of amusement, only to continue when he finished his question.

"Still, what is so amusing on my supposition?" There was the little pout he had aimed for, Charles noted. She looked so cute whenever he teased her.

"You are giving the Queen too much credit, my dear Marquess."

"Considering that it is her, who you call your Queen, and that furthermore it had been previously me in her stead, I fairly doubt that."

"Your argument might as very well be mine. You see, Anne, you were too much and the reason for where she is now today, is because she is far too less."

"What a nice analogy," she scoffed.

Charles smirked. She may look cute with the pout she was unaware of herself, but the frown that was added to her expression was priceless.

"Yet, it is the truth," Charles insisted. He raised his right hand and caressed her cheek lightly. "It may have been something you would have done, or rather you would have dared to. But do you truly believe that someone as... someone like her would have had the courage to do what only you would have? Especially knowing that it would have angered her husband?"

And they all knew how much and how hard Jane tried to please her husband. Henry would have probably been overjoyed, if he had not already been the one to intercept the letter, but Jane did not know that. In fear that this would displease her husband, she would have stayed quiet, like she always did. Anne realized how true and reasonable Charles' explanation had been and looking back, she realized how stupid and unfounded her own had been.

"Maybe next time I shall come to you first..." she sighed tiredly. It was half-meant, so she had not thought about what it would have meant... to him.

"Maybe you should," the way he spoke it could almost be considered as huskily or maybe... longing? Or perhaps it was wistful...

She looked up to him, smiling shyly. She was not accepting what was between them. Not yet. But she had at least stopped pushing Charles away so hard. It was a first step, as little as it was. At least they were going somewhere, even if she was not quite sure where exactly it was. But wherever it may be, it will not be that bad as long as she had him with her.

"Tell me Charles..." she trailed off, pretending to raise a serious issue.

"Yes?" If he had dared and seemed to enjoy teasing her that much, then surely he would not mind being the subject to his own kind of amusement.

"…do you really not know the name of the maid?"

Her eyes sparked with an amusement that Charles did not like at all. He showed his displeasure with a loud groan, knowing that Anne would not leave it; instead she was going to torture him. He could provide her with an answer for sure. However, looking at her, he did not want to spoil her fun and so, he let himself take it in.

But what the both of them failed to notice in their light atmosphere of friendliness jokes and intimate teasing, was that their conversation was in no way for their ears only. They would never notice, unless they would have noticed the slightly opened door.

* * *

"Your Majesty, what are your plans regarding the Prince of Wales' engagement?"

"As I already said, I strive for a betrothal of my son with the Princess Mary of Scotland," Henry declared, his face in front of the window glass, observing England's view.

"You have already made your matter very clear, Your Majesty, however, it is required of you to send someone to Scotland to make that matter clear. Therefore, have you already appointed a special ambassador or perhaps-"

Henry raised his hand, a gesture instantly signalizing a desired silence. The King needed time to decide or rather, he had already decided. He was just contemplating his decision. He had to admit that he felt unsure of it, just a little bit. After all, considering their past and the good relationship they used to share and... and yet, when his mind trailed back to the events of the day, remembering the way Anne had defended him, what she had said, what she had done, he could feel the anger rise back again. This anger was enough to shut up any doubts he had had before.

"I already have someone in my mind," he said. "I would like for the Duke of Suffolk to be the bearer of those wonderful news to the King of Scotland. I am convinced that he would do a fine job, as no one else could. He is the most suited one."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

* * *

**Chapter 11**

If he wanted to be honest - and there were not many times of them - he had his doubt every now and then concerning his decision. After all, who was he trying to fool? Charles had been his friend for so long that he could almost not remember it anymore. He had known him his whole life, they spent their boyhood together, having shared many adventures as only little young boys could and thereafter, even when imaginary wars turned real and battles did not always end in victory and instead of mud, it was blood that they were covered in, Charles had always been there.

Doubts were nagging on his conscience.

Henry wondered whether he was doing the right thing. More often than not, it would lead him to further questions, like the reason why he had to undergo such drastic measures and whether this drastic measure was actually justified by the reason, the crime he had committed. To do so, he would have to know it actually or rather, he had to admit the reason, something he was not quite ready for and thus, he was sentenced to this time of wondering, as long as he was in denial.

"Your Majesty, the Lady Anne Bassett."

A small smile appeared on his face, somewhere between genuine and fake, as the name of his latest mistress reached his ear. He watched her delicate form enter his study; her dark brown hair was falling openly. Those sweetly pink lips of her were turned up into a sassy smile, while her brown eyes were fixed on him. Henry liked the bold look in her eyes; it gave him a warm feeling in his chest. However, at times, such as this today, it irritated him, as there was this burning feeling in his chest that told him of the wrongfulness of it all.

There was something wrong in the way it looked at him, or there was something wrong in her look, anything, and yet, it was nothing actually, since her eyes never changed.

At those times, he would look away, in the same fashion as he averted his eyes back to his paper, pretending that they were of more important matters, which they were.

"My King." She was probably bowing down to him by now and if he would have looked up, he would have gotten a wonderful sight on the cleavage that she further emphasized by tightening her corset even more. He knew her efforts were especially made for him, and usually he would have appreciated it, but today...

Today he just did not felt like it.

"Lady Bassett, what is it that you seek?" He was turning cold again. It was a task of which he was a master.

"Your Majesty," her voice sounded hurt, when she said that. She walked up to him, even though she did not have his permission. Yet, considering that he had made her his mistress, he had done so in a way. Maybe it was time to change that.

As Henry contemplated this choice in his mind, he felt his hand covered by her own. The touch surprised him and he could not help but to finally look up to her brown eyes. He frowned.

She smiled nonetheless, as she finally got his attention.

"I had missed you, Your Majesty. I was so lonely during the time you did not come, especially during the night."

"Was that the reason you came to me?"

She let herself be seated on his lap, wrapping her arm around his neck. He had once enjoyed her brazenness, the lack of protocol and especially the lack of demureness in her manner. Once, he had favored her over his wife, like he had favored Jane over Anne.

"Have you missed me?"

"I was busy."

"Then perhaps I shall entertain you with something more interesting than those works." Henry wanted to protest and yet, he was stopped by her next words. "It seems that the Marquess of Pembroke, as well as the Duke of Suffolk tend to forget to shield their door against the curious ears of the servants," she giggled.

"You were spying on them?"

"I was coincidentally on my way past the Duke's chamber, in search for some maid, as the Queen had requested. I had not noticed until I overheard their conversation."

"What is it exactly that you overheard?"

She smiled, knowing that she had drawn his attention.

"I think the more interesting thing is rather what I did not hear, my King," she giggled again. "I dared to peak into his Duke's chamber, I hope you will not punish me for my actions," she said with an enticing proposal.

"Carry on," he demanded.

"Your Majesty, it was such a sweet sight, although I could not see much, I believe that the Marquess was lying on his lap. He was cuddling her or at least, he was embracing her. It seemed very cozy, though the only thing it rendered me was to miss you more." She planted kisses on his cheek.

"Did you hear what the words they exchanged?"

"Hm... I cannot remember quite well anymore," she replied with a sigh. She halted with her kisses, and remained still for a small moment. Henry waited for her next reaction. "But perhaps you can ask them later on, if your Majesty was in the mood to take a walk in the garden, perhaps with me? It is such a beautiful weather and it seems that the Marquess and the Duke share my opinion. They-"

He blacked the following words of his mistress out. He turned his head towards his window, as much as was possible, since there was a heavy burden weighing on him. Indeed, it seemed that Anne was on a stroll, the Duke was apparently accompanying her on her walk, but what was even more obvious to him and the only thing he could concentrate on, somehow, was the expression on her face.

There was so much distance between them. Him and Anne.

It was weird, how the sound of their names together in a sentence seemed now so strange to him, when at one time, she was all that he could think about. Back then, she had plagued his every thought, with no woman ever able to push her from his mind. Oh, how enticed, how bewitched he had been of her.

But despite the distance between them, he could clearly outline the happiness that radiated from her. Whenever she was happy, feeling too carefree, she would glow. Not as much as she would during her pregnancy, nor was it on the same level. It was different, yet just as mesmerizing. She was just was enchanting and breathtaking, very much in the same way he was holding his breath right now.

The Lady Bassett, believing it was due to her continuous stroke of amorous attention she placed on him, placated his skin with her lip's touch.

The King barely registered her and her actions, barely feeling her hot hand leaving a cold imprint on his skin, with cold blood running through his veins. Instead, he was focused on the sight transpiring in front of him. She seemed so serene, her arm tucked in with Charles' arm. Her gait carefree, there was no one watching or following them, no trace of grey trouble tainting her aura. Perhaps this was the reason for their carelessness. But Henry could care less. His eyes were following them, their every move.

He watched how Charles leaned in to her, whispering something in her ear, maybe? Was it something sweet or something funny? It was hard to tell. But it was Anne, who laughed, the unpredictable woman he had once fallen for. He could not see much, but he could imagine the way her lips turned up, more of a condescending smirk than a smile, leaving the man, who caused this to forever tie himself to her.

He then watched her disentangle herself from him. Indeed, it seemed that Charles had done something to insult her. Anne walked in front of Charles, stopping him from continuing their walk. She put her hand on her hips, her upper body leaned forward to him and she was probably saying something to him that was meant to be witty, teasingly and yet so pure. He knew it. After all, he remembered how the both of them, as sophisticated and intellectual as they were, pushed each other's button and pushed and pushed until they had no place to push into anymore but their bed. She had her way with words, for if not, Charles would not be throwing his head back and laugh wholeheartedly.

Anne was still standing in front of him, one hand now laying on her chest and she too was laughing with him. It was disheartening to see her smile, but even more so to see her laugh. That beautiful sight accompanied with an even more beautiful tune that had at times reminded him of the ring of heavenly bells, always reminding him so many times what a great gift the angels had bestowed upon him.

lying on her chest and she too was laughing with him. It was disheartening to see her smile, but even more so to see her laugh. That beautiful sight accompanied with an even more beautiful tune that had at times reminded him of the ring of heavenly bells, always reminding him so many times what a great gift the angels had bestowed upon him.

The next time he would throw his eyes back at the scene was that transpiring in his garden, he would see the both of them in a tight embrace.

Anne had probably thrown herself into his arms or probably it was Charles that forced her between his arms. He was holding her into the air, though his two arms pressed tightly around her, pushing her into his chest. Henry could recall those memories of how well their bodies melted together. Anne's feet were dangling from the ground, but she as well, was embracing him. Together they dwelt in their serene peace.

Henry would close his eyes at their sight. His ears would still be filled with the magnificent sound of her laughter. They continued ringing in his head.

He could still feel the hand of his mistress on his body, his shirt was torn open, while she planted many kisses on his chest. Her mouth was leaving a trail of sweet kisses, always more and more further down. The thick sound of their lips touching, or the sound of two skins contacting was not enough to put that melodious song from his mind. And frankly, he did not feel the desire to.

Instead, there was something else inside him that fought to come to the surface. It was like a lock and a key, and the melody was the key to unlocking every desire, every truth and every lie that he had hidden deeply inside him. Right now, he felt only one thing.

Henry opened his eyes. He grabbed his mistress' head and kissed her fervently on her lips. He pushed her body against the window, whilst continuing kissing her.

"Anne," he whispered her name, his hands moving in its own accord, in the same familiar rhythm as he had always known. He was keeping his eyes open, for he wanted to see everything. He wanted to see her beautiful blue eyes.

No, there was no doubt in his mind.

Not anymore.

* * *

"You are insufferable," she proclaimed, however her statement was discredited by her following laughter.

"I insist, my fair lady, it is nothing but according the truth."

"Are you really trying to make a fool out of me?"

"Are you adamant on not giving my words and belief?" Anne shook her head and continued to walk, with Charles following closely nearby.

"It is of no matter; I have to get back to my chamber anyhow."

"So soon, do you not want to enjoy the rare fine weather we have been blessed with today?" Charles asked her, but Anne shook continued to shake her head.

"No, today I had wanted to write a letter to my Elizabeth, as enough days had passed since I received it and I shall not worry my daughter by not responding early enough."

"Then I shall accompany you to your chamber." Anne smiled and consented.

A few days had passed since they had made up and Anne felt so much better, each day seemed to get better. Her heart felt lighter, there was no more heavy burden on her heart whenever she took a step and when she walked, she did not feel the need to stiffen because of the heavy load on her shoulder. Indeed, even the fact that she was back at court did not appear as terrible as it had been before. She wondered whether it was because she was getting used to it.

She looked to Charles. Anne could not help but smile.

"Is there something?" He asked her, when he noticed her stare.

"No," she shook her head in gentle denial. "Everything is just... fine."

"Fine?" he repeated in an incredulous astonishment.

"I do feel ... content." She laughed gently at her own words.

Charles stared in disbelief at her. He had a hard time wrapping his head around that thought and usually, he would have questioned her on that matter. However, when he starred at her, how light she seemed, how easy she carried herself with and just so carefree, it came to his mind that perhaps it was the better choice to leave it be. Who was he to complain, when she was happy and after all, that was all that mattered to him. He could care less for the reason, as long as he was able to see her beautiful smile or even hear her joyous laughter, like he had done so recently back in the garden, he was content as well.

He took her hand in his own. Anne, startled, watched Charles, as he put her delicate finger beneath his lips.

"It gladdens me to hear that," he exclaimed.

It was not the first time that Charles had displayed affections beyond their line of friendship, but it was the first time that Anne did nothing to prevent him from doing so and she was even more frankly, it was the first time that she did not actually mind. But the only thing she admitted or allowed herself to admit was that she was fine with his affection. It did not frighten her anymore.

"When you write the letter to Elizabeth, would you do me a favor and-" She was mesmerized by the gentleness, her ears peaked at the tentatively spoken words from him that she barely took notice of the man that approached them.

"Your Grace, His Majesty requests your presence."

She was not sure what exactly had triggered her reaction, whether it was the mention of him or the presence of the servant, but she had not had the time to contemplate on it thoroughly, as she already withdrawn her hand from him with a jerk.

"What does His Majesty want?" Charles questioned coldly. Anne flinched from his tone inwardly, but like him, she kept her cool facade with bravery on.

"I am not sure, he merely told that it was of utmost importance, a state affair." Charles sighed in frustration.

"Anne-"

"I will retreat to my chamber, gentlemen." She bid goodbye to the both of them and turned around.

* * *

_My dear Elizabeth,_

_It is most glorious to hear your reply. To know that you and my beloved Darien are faring well fills my heart with a serene peace I missed since my departure from you - _

Anne wondered whether she shall tell Elizabeth of the latest occurrence at court, on what to fill her in and what not. However, it did not require a long time for her to make up her mind. For although her daughter was her greatest confidant, she was after all still her daughter, whom she loved above all and like every mother, she felt the need to shield her daughter from any harm. And that included the tainting schemes of the royal palace. Those lies that lied behind those walls were far too much to bear for an innocent soul as that of her daughter.

_My heart aches for you though the thought of seeing you keeps me going, it never ceases to remind me the lack of your presence in my life and there is nothing I wish more for than to be there for you. Thus forgive me - _

Anne flinched. She looked at her last letter with a frown, as she noticed how the e was now adorned with an elongated scratch. Still frowning and deeply unpleased, she turned around, ready to demand from any servant who dared to disturb her serenity, when she had in fact insisted on being alone, the reason for their audacity.

"Charles?"

He came back sooner than she had believed he would return. In fact, she had not expected him to arrive at her chambers either, as she had made no invitation for him. Although it was not as though it had stopped him before either.

"What are you doing here?"

Only now, when she was scrutinizing him more closely did she notice how frantic he looked. It was not easily detected, but his hair was too disheveled, his posture too stiff and his expression far too grim that it would leave her with no worry.

"Is something the matter?" Her brow was furrowed in worry, as she starred at him. He opened his mouth and she expected him to say something, after all, it appeared as though he got something to say. Yet, a sigh was the only sound that escaped his mouth.

"Charles...?" Worry, like a seed that had already been planted the moment he was thrown her door open, now blossomed wonderfully into dread and Anne felt her heart ache heavily against her chest.

"Anne..." Again, she was waiting in vain. "I should not have come here." Abruptly, Charles turned around and headed towards the door again. Anne, confused about what was transpiring, barely had the time to clearly think about her actions and so, she did the first thing that came to her mind.

"Charles, please wait!"

Had she really expected of him to head her words and wait?

Again, she had not really thought much about it and yet, she was relieved to see him standing. The next moment of panic soon followed, since she did not know what to say hereafter. There was a lot of things she could say. She could have asked him again. She could have tried to comfort him. She could ask him what had happened between him and Henry.

"I am sorry."

"What? I don't understand... Did something-?"

Anne felt her heart beat anxiously against her chest.

"I am leaving."

"What do you mean, you are leaving?" Anne whispered incredulously.

Charles went past her and almost like that night, when he brought the latest news to her, he sat down on her bed. Seeing the frustrated sight of him, how he hid his face in his hand, with his elbow on his knee, she felt the need to comfort him. So, she sat down next to her.

"Charles?"

"He wanted to propose a betrothal between his son and the Princess Mary of Scotland. For that, however, he requires an ambassador..." He did not finish his sentence. He did not need to. Anne could guess his following words fine enough.

The dreadful cloud that was their situation hung over them, turning everything grey and dark. It was silent and yet so terribly loud, with its thunders and lightning that Anne wished to turn away from it all, so very different from the atmosphere in the garden. But she held on to her silence in the same way Charles stayed kept his as well. She wished that he would say something, anything and yet, she heard nothing. It was probably her turn, after all, back then it had always been him comforting her.

If only she knew the right words to say to him. She was not the best when it came to things like that. She never had the need to do so. It had always been her, who was comforted, by Charles, never the other way around.

"Do you have something to say? Do you not want to say something?" he asked her. Anne chewed on her lip, looking uncertainly back at him.

"I..." What was there to say anyway? It was the King's order and it was not as though Charles was able to defy his choice, for it would be defying his King and that was treason. "When you are leaving?"

"God, Anne!" he was laughing, but they knew that there was nothing funny about her question, nor was it meant to be. Instead, the more he laughed the guiltier she felt and even more did she feel the need to take him into her arms. She could have, she should have, she knew, and yet she did not.

"What else do I have say? What else is there left to say?" She asked with a rising voice at his accusation.

"You could have said anything," he scoffed, still leaning at his knees. He had ceased starring at her; instead his focus was on the floor.

"But it does not make it any better, does it? It would not change anything."

"So, this is all that you have got to say to me? Is there nothing else?" It had not been his intention to let this conversation go so far. Actually, he was not quite aware of the intention behind his decision to seek her immediately after having Henry told him of his decision of the lack of. But frankly, this was not what he had expected either. He had not expected to be hurt over her words, but that was exactly what was happening. With every second that passed, when she said nothing and even more, when she said anything, he felt like she was taking the knife that hung over his head and stabbed it directly into his heart.

However, above it all, it was her silence, the look in her eyes, when she fixated him - not her actions - that twisted the knife further and further in his heart.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

"I don't know, but if you have to me what it exactly is, then I can assure you, it is not **this."** He stood up, wanting to leave.

"No Charles!" This time, he did not stop. "Charles!"

Anne guessed that he was just as hurt as she was hurt by him. It sucked.

"God! Why are you so angry?"

"Are you really asking me this? What is wrong with you today?"

"It is not as though you can change his decision!"

"But it does not make it any better." Anne flinched, when she repeated the very words she had used as a justification.

"No," she agreed quietly, wrapping her arms around herself, wondering how the wonderful weather could turn into such a dreary cold day so suddenly. "No, it does not."

Charles starred at her relentlessly, without any lenience, without any mercy.

"Will you miss me? At all?" he asked. For before he had entered her chambers, he was assured that she would be. So much had happened now over those little few moments and suddenly, his certainty was not that certain anymore.

"Of course, I will," she assured with, putting her heart above her chest to show him her sincerity. Despite all of this though, he could not find it in him to believe her. After all, she may have a heart, but it did not change the fact that it was cruel.

"Then act like that, damn it all!"

This time, Anne had forbidden herself to cringe at his tone, although her heart did clench one time too hard at his voice.

"You do not believe me?"

"Now, you do not make it easy for me."

If she were not standing in front of him and thus, between him and the door, he sure would have marched up and left, as there was nothing more that gave him reason to stay. Alas, she was standing in front of him and therefore rightly refusing him of his exit.

"I am sorry." Slowly, tentatively she went towards him. Charles eyes her suspiciously. "I do will miss you. I am sorry that you have to go. I do not know what to do, when you leave. If I had the choice, I would rather wish that you stay here." Slowly and tentatively, she took his hand, in the same manner he had taken hers earlier on and clasped it between her own.

"That was what you wanted to hear, was it not?"

That uncertain, insecure look inside her eyes and the way she averted her look; he found it incredibly sweet. Almost enticing. He hated himself for always giving in to her. He wondered why it was that he could never resist her? What was this pull that she had over him? He could guess, he could know, but he was and had never been certain whether he wanted to.

"It is fine." He cupped her cheek and forced her to look at him. She let her hold lose.

He realized that he could look forever into her eyes and probably not mind at all. As long as she was there with him, he felt most content.

"Anne?"

"Yes?" she asked. She noticed how he leaned forward. She felt panic sweep through her body, as his forehead touched hers. She was ready to take a step back, if the worst happened.

She waited.

Nothing happened over that little time that felt so heavily loaded and as long as hours, even though she was aware of the fact that it could not have been longer than one breath. With ease she noticed how he retreated from her, granting her distance again. But he was still looking at her, this time fierce and determined.

"Then I have something to ask you. I sincerely hope that you will say yes." He gripped her hands in his now. It was a tight grip, he was squeezing her fingers so lightly and yet for Anne, it felt as though it was draining her every energy. If it had been him, with his forceful grip and burning eyes, she would have fought, she would have yanked away, she would have burned. But Charles, as gentle as he was with her, he was draining her, making her feel empty and hollow.

Anne looked down on her hands.

Fear soared through her body and she shivered from the cold. The goose bumps an effect by both feelings.

"I know, it is selfish of me," he hesitated as well. Anne closed her eyes. Even his gentle voice she could hardly endure. "Will you come with me? To Scotland?"

Anne took a deep breath and opened her eyes. He had finally asked the question the both of them had dreaded. Who was she kidding? Why was she surprised? She should have known that this was the question he had wanted to ask her and despite this all, she felt her heart clench at his words. She almost resented him for putting her in such a position. She resented him for expecting her to answer him. Did he deliberately want her to hate him? Perhaps he deliberately wanted to be hurt, just to make her be the bad guy.

"Charles..." She looked at him. There were those eyes again. Those hopeful eyes crushed her, more than any hurtful words and heartbreak could.

It would be easy to leave this all behind. She could say yes. She would hurt no one. Besides, it was a great opportunity to leave this place behind as well. If she consented in accompanying him and of course, given that Henry would consent as well, she would be free. No more heartbreak, no more sorrow, no more Henry telling her what to do. She would not hurt Charles by rejecting him.

"I-"

But those words would just not leave her mouth. That was when she knew. Anne averted her eyes, closing them. She felt no desire to see them nor for them to be seen by him.

"I am sorry."

* * *

It hurts to realize that the people you thought you'd love for life don't love you as much as you thought they did and can do without you as if they never knew you at all.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Title:** Perish in the Name of Passion

**Summary: **Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude, Oscar Wilde. Henry had spared Anne from beheading. But on the last day, he had unknowingly let go of two lives. It will be six years later that they are reunited, but have their feelings changed enough to give them a second chance at love?

* * *

With a grace like only the Marquess of Pembroke, temptress and victorious champion of love affairs, could possess, Anne walked down the hall. That very grace was coupled with an air of regality and calmness that was quite surprising for outsiders, considering that the impending leave of the Duke of Suffolk, her rumored lover.

Indeed, it was difficult for Anne to reign in any hint of anger, even more so, it was difficult for her not to fall into another one of the wrathful tantrums she had been once and was still infamous for. It took her a lot not to take a precious little vase from the next corner and just throw it against the wall. But she did it well, as Anne knew that every eye was directed on her now, as she made her way. Furthermore, she knew or at least she could guess - and she very good when it came to that - that with every step she took, the burden of their eyes felt heavier, as every step made it clearer as to where exactly she was heading.

She had allowed herself one mistake too many.

There were already too many rumors circling around her person, she was aware of that. The whispers, the embarrassing attempt to sneak secretly at her person, when they could have as well starred at her openly with big wide eyes. She knew all of those indications. She had been there before.

The only difference was herself, for this time, she was wiser than that. As much as she disliked it, she had to control her temper.

Just for a little while.

So, here she was, in front of him, with his knowing smirk and that taunting look in eyes that had been haunting her for so long.

"Are you not intending to bide the Duke of Suffolk goodbye? Or perhaps a farewell?" The teasing gleam in his cold ice blue eyes made it hard for her to resist the urge to react violently to his words, but instead she crossed her arms over her chest.

"There is no need for such thing," she replied in a defensive manner.

"Oh, I agree. I am a much better company than he could ever be."

"Don't make me laugh."

"Surely, this must be the reason for why else would you seek out my company, when your lover is mere moments away from departing and leaving you for what could be months?"

"He is not my lover!" Anne insisted upon.

"Is that so?" Judging from his tone, Anne knew that he did not believe her. She rolled her eyes, knowing that even if she did try, it would be in vain either way. She knew, after all, how stubborn he could be. "But that does not matter, does it? What is far more interesting, especially for me, is the question as to why you are here, milady."

"Take your order back. I want you to take back your order, do not make Charles leave."

"Now you have me confused, my dear, due to the contradiction in your words. You claim that Charles is not your lover and here you are, begging me to not separate you two. What is the relationship between you now?" Henry questioned her with a fake curiosity and interest that could not fool Anne.

"It does not matter."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Henry argued. "It does quite matter, especially if perchance you would admit your undying love for him, I might be moved enough to be lenient towards him."

"There is nothing that is of importance going on, between me and the Duke of Suffolk that could be of interest of you, Your Majesty, as I have already said." Anne continued to insist. She watched Henry, leant back in his chair and trying to look as though he is deciding.

"No," he objected. "I still find it hard to believe. After all, you have to agree, my dear Marquess, that here you are, standing in front of me, _begging_ for his Duke to reside at this place, a place where you are present as well. It takes a lot to make you beg. If memory serves me right, you rarely begged me for anything, not even for me."

No, if his memory would serve him right, then he should remember that she never had the need to, because he read every wish from her eyes before it even passed her lips. And the one time she did, he refused her.

Anne found it quite interesting that he seemed to have no difficulty in dismissing that fact.

She on the other hand, did not have an easy time, when standing in front of him and waiting for his answer that turned out to be another mock of his every time. How she hated that he had to point that she was begging him. She wanted to argue with him on that matter, tell - or better, shout at - him that she was far from begging. The only time she would admit that she begged him for anything, was that one time, back, far, far back to the dark days of their marriage. That one time, when he denied her, when she needed it the most.

"I only want him to stay, because he is my friend."

"There are many definitions for **friends**. Especially for you, is it not true, Marquess?"

Now she had had it with his insinuations!

"Charles is my friend, there is nothing to deny in. I do not have many, would you judge me if I enjoy his presence, when this is one of the rare that offer me solace in a place you banished me into?" Anne "You know what I do not understand? Why you are doing this. I thought he was your friend, too."

"I believed that as well, how foolish this rendered me." The bitterness in his voice did not pass her judgment and Anne wondered what had triggered this sentiment, although she had a small guess. "Either way, you cannot blame me for believing what everyone already knows."

"What they believe!" Anne corrected him freely. "I always thought that the King was above believing stupid and frivolous gossips shared among the servants. But, to be honest, I had shaken off this stupid thinking of mine a long time ago as well. But oh, _how foolish it had rendered me_." she mocked him, repeating the very same words that he had just used a while ago.

"Are you saying that there is no need for me to believe them? Hard to believe," Henry was trying to keep his cool, knowing that it his icy demeanor would fuel her fire. It was not that easy, but Henry was a determined man. His eyes were following her intently, gliding over her every feature, monitoring their every twitch and move, hoping, believing that he was still in hold of the ability to read her like no other man.

"Have I said that?"

She had never wanted Henry to believe that the rumors. It had never been important to her, or was it?

The thing was that she had never cared before, but now, when she stood in front of him, realizing that the reason behind this was the apparent green jealousy behind his blue eyes - it had become to tantalizing. To lure him, to tease and make him squirm. So very hard to resist...

It had never been her intention.

She reminded herself that she did not come here to justify her relationship with Charles, neither was she here to explain anything.

Yet, when she looked back into his eyes, judging him, very much in the same way he had wanted to interrogate her silently, Anne realized that it may have not been her intention, but it had been surely his.

"God, what I am doing here?" Anne had spoken those words out sooner than she had even come to think of them. When those words were spoken, it was an instant movement. None of them had planned for that. They had not even registered their movement, much like how Anne did not realize her words before the got out of her mouth. Very much like how Henry never seemed to realize what was doing, had been doing or had done, before it is already done and sometimes, not even knowing that he had before it came to the time he had nothing left to do anymore, but think of them.

It was in the same way that their eyes locked with each other, how suddenly that icy look softened its gaze and the fiery lost its burn.

"I should not have come here," Anne whispered for the first time. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and like always, before either of them could realize their actions, Anne was already dashing between the door, having gone up and left, before he even knew it.

Like always.

This is also why she knew that he would not follow her. She kept the same pace with which she walked into his room, the same grace with the same elegance. The only difference was the dismay in her heart, knowing that Charles leave will proceed as Henry had planned. This was exactly where she was heading towards. Her heart was heavy at the prospect of leaving her friend.

But there was no need for her to do that, for even if her feet were moving on their own accord, fate, a far greater force to reckon with than her instinct, had different intentions. Anne realized that too late, as she was already collided with the man, whose presence she was seeking.

"Anne," he heard her call him, before wrapping his hand around her arms and preventing her from hitting the ground.

"Charles!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Thank God, I caught you. I was searching for you, where have you been?"

"I..." she paused. "Nowhere, I was nowhere," she replied.

"Well, you ought to know, I was searching for you. I wanted to make sure that you will see me one last time before I leave."

"Of course, I was planning on going either way. Nothing could have stopped me."

"Anne,-" She looked at him with an expecting look and Charles felt uneasy at those seemingly innocent big eyes. "About the last time-"

"It does not matter, that matter was... it was nothing. It changes nothing," Anne whispered the last part, almost apologizing and even if Charles pressed on, it was like she said, it would have changed nothing and so, he accepted her words.

"Have you already packed all you need?" Anne questioned him.

"There is no need for you to worry." He seemed so cheery.

Anne did not want him to leave. Suddenly, another thought crossed her mind. If Henry was not to be moved, then perhaps someone else could be...

Watching him pack everything, knowing that he would leave her behind, was something that she did not want. She just did not want it. She did not want to be alone.

Gathering all of these thoughts, Anne made her decision.

"Do you really have to leave?" she asked him. "Surely, if you-" In that moment, that cheery atmosphere, the easy going empire pretense they had built up over the years had shaken for a little moment.

"Don't." The way he whispered it so slowly and so quiet, foolishly made her believe that there was hope. But it had been foolish of her, but as foolish as it was. Anne believed it. So she continued on pressuring him.

"Charles, he cannot make-"

"Yes, he can. Perhaps not directly, but we all know that when his eyes catch something, he will have his way, no matter what." By now he had stood up, slamming his trunk down.

He was tired. He did not desire for this conversation to continue.

"What does he have against you?"

"Let's not talk about it."

"Charles..."

"My divorce," Charles replied with a gruff sigh. "He is the only one who can grant me my divorce!"

Anne hesitated.

"What if you do not?" She avoided looking into his eyes. "Is it so important for you to finalize your divorce?"

She realized that she had said something she should not have said or at least that her words had triggered something in him. By the look of it, it seemed as though whatever it was, it was not good. Perhaps she should have apologized for her words, but she was too late for that, for the chance to speak up was already taken by Charles.

"How can you ask that from me?" he asked her incredulously, not capable of comprehending the fact that she asked him that question. And although Anne had no idea why, she looked away, her guilt being intensified by his penetrating stare.

"Maybe this journey might not be such a bad idea," he muttered and stood up.

"How can you say that?!" There was her temper again.

"Well, it hurts, does it not?" The look he threw at her made her wince and easily ebbed away her anger, for it made her realize that a few moments ago; this was what she made him go through.

"Charles, just contemplate-"

"You know why I think it would a good idea?" She waited for him to speak up; because of right now she had nothing to speak of. "This way, as much as I hate it, enables me to leave you."

Anne bit her lip.

"I am not saying that I like it, you know that I hate the idea of leaving you," and for a moment, when he looked into her eyes, Charles felt the need to raise his hand but before she even noticed that little movement that lasted for perhaps a second, he tightened his hand into a fist. "I guess the good thing here is that we do not have to talk to each other anymore. I love talking to you," he smiled, realizing that this was for the first time he had admitted this to her.

"But somehow, no matter what, it seems that we just say things that hurt each other and before I say something I regret or regret even more than I do already, it is perhaps better for me to leave. It might be even good for you..."

Anne opened her mouth. This time, however, she closed it soon again. She had seen the look in his eyes, she remembered it.

"I-"

She could not even say that she was sorry.

"Indeed," Charles tried to chuckle off the tension. "Anne-" Before he even finished his sentence, he saw her leave. It was not fast, she was not running away. He just watched how she slowly rose, her body and turned around, while he watched slowly how every time she took one more step away from him.

* * *

"Leave," she breathed that very word out so slowly and with so much fury that Henry would not even come to think of that it this was not even an ounce of the fury residing inside her.

"Now, why would I do that?" he asked teasingly, showing him that he had no intention on aiding her words.

"Well, considering that you left me once already, I take that you can do it any other time as well," she replied in a steady, yet so vicious voice. She had not mean to be vicious or petty or in any way like she would have used to respond back to him. For those days were long gone. Yet, she could not restrain herself.

It was too much. Everything had suddenly became too much. Their conversation, her conversation with Charles... Charles leaving... She was overwhelmed by her feelings and in a moment of weakness, she let it all out on him. She should not have done that. But she also refused to apologize either. "Just leave," she sighed and gripped on the bar even tighter.

"You do not really mean that." She noticed how he must have taken one or a few steps closer, for she was hearing his voice so clearly, although he was whispering.

"Why would I not mean that?"

"Because you belong here," her breath almost hitched, when she felt his presence, now there was no denying, dangerously close to her. She felt the feeling of his body pressed to hers even though they were not touching. "With me."

She shuddered, her whole body now stiff and alert. The goose bumps were now all over her body.

"How-"

He placed his hand over hers.

"What are you-" She turned her head around, in order to get a better access to glare at him. Too late did she realize her mistake. For in that moment, when she turned around, her face was dangerously close to his in a way that she could, not almost, feel his breath on her.

She looked into his cool eyes, but she knew that there was more to it than that. They were too cool, too indifferent and too desperate. It was not that she imagined things in her wishful thinking. She was sure of that.

"Let. Go." She hissed. However, her words had no effect on him, rather he drew one more step closer to her if that had been even possible, forcing her chest to be pressed against him. She bit her lip, knowing that no words were able to chase him away. But she had no choice of escaping either, considering that she was trapped between him and the bars. "What do you want?" she asked in the most annoyed and threatening voice.

As if she had said something funny, she saw his lips curving up, turning into a small smile.

"Anne," he spoke her name in a chidingly manner, even almost appeasing.

"Henry." What in the name of God would possess her to be so daring?

Anne smirked and saw the short shock flash across his blue eyes, before it was being replaced by his bellowing laughter that should have been inappropriate for a man of his status. But he cared little for that. He even threw his head, when he lost himself in his laughter, giving Anne the possibility of looking up and seeing him from a much different perspective.

"Oh, Anne."

Before she even noticed, he was looking back at her again. His arm was now constricted around her waist, holding tightly onto her. She knew, because she felt herself being held in a fashion that she had not been for a long time, especially by him.

"Henry." She had not intended to, but somehow, in some way, she was smiling at him, as small as it was.

The King bent his head down at hers.

* * *

"Lady Madge, good to see you," Charles greeted her. He was standing in front of his carriage. He looked past her, but was terribly disappointed when he did not see what he had hoped for. "I take it that you came here to bide me good-bye."

Charles looked past her, as if expecting to see Anne right behind her maid, but as he looked, he knew it was going to be disappointing on his part.

"Tell me, have you seen the Lady lately?" he asked Madge.

"Please forgive me, I have not seen my mistress since the morrow."

"I see. Then I take it that she is not coming." He was feigning an indifference that Madge could see past.

"It is a shame that you cannot stay," she claimed, thinking back to what she had witnessed mere moments ago. She shuddered as those images passed by. It had been enough to let the Duke know that Anne would not come to bide him good-bye. She wondered what would happen, if he were to the truth.

"Now, Madge, do not fret. Do not worry, for I will travel as fast as I can. You will not even notice my leave."

"Nevertheless, it remains a shame. You... you were good for the Marquess," Madge noted.

"I think she will do fine without me, for the Lady Marquess is a grown and very fine woman. Although I, too, regret that I will have to leave her alone." Charles sighed and looked behind Madge, as if expecting Anne to stand there. Perhaps it was wishful thinking.

"I would never dare to doubt the Marquess... it is merely..." Madge trailed off and nervously, she fidgeted on the hem of her dress. The maid wondered whether she should tell what she had seen to him. The Duke was just so good to Anne. If he stayed, of that she was without doubt, Anne would never even spare the King a thought, but now that he was leaving...

"What is it, Madge?"

"It is the King that I do not trust," she admitted quietly, so that only the two of them could hear her words, because those words shall be spoken with caution for a wrong word or a misunderstanding was enough to accuse her of treason.

"Why do you say that?" Charles wondered. He knew through Anne that she was someone, who knew her place and she knew what it would mean if those words were heard by the wrong person. But even more so, he wondered why she would say such thing.

"I..." Perhaps it had not been the best idea to come to him. After all, she did not want to drive a wedge between the two of them. Now that the Duke was finally getting his divorce from his wife and when it would mean that he and the Marquess could be openly married, like they ought to be.

He was such a kind man, much more than the King had and could have ever been. He made Anne happy, perhaps not as happy as she had once been with the King, but Madge assumed that it was due to the heartbreak caused by that very man that made her cautious and less daring to love, as she had once been. But either way, she was fond of the Duke of Suffolk, not only because he was kind to Anne, but also because he wanted the best for her. She saw that in his eyes.

However right now, she could only see the impending arrival of heartbreak in his own eyes, if she were to tell him of Anne's betrayal.

"Have you seen something?"

"It was nothing. Forgive me, Duke, for my imprudence. I should not have spoken of matters that do not concern me. It was nothing," Madge repeated. "Please, I do not want to stress your time, on which you are already short."

She wanted to turn around and hurry off. In her mind, she chastised herself. What had befallen her, when she went to the Duke, intending to tell him everything? She must have been mad. Nothing was worth her mistress' happiness, the very same happiness she had almost forfeited.

"No, Madge," Charles ran past her, stopping her from going further. "You have to tell me, what had happened."

There must have been something. He knew it. He just did. It was a gut feeling, but this dread, he could not shake it off and if it were indeed true, then he had to know it. If this was not the case, then he would be able to continue his journey without the worry and suspicion looming over his head.

"You had lied, when you said that you had not seen her."

"My gracious Duke, -"

"Was she with-?"

Neither of them reacted to his unfinished sentence. Both of them wanted to live in their denial. This was the truth he had wanted to know.

"It does not matter. Like I had already said, the Lady Anne is a fine woman and well grown up. I trust her to be the wise person we know her to be and make her own decisions." He said it with so much dignity that it made Madge's heart turned sad. Charles turned around and opened the door of his carriage. "It is late and like it was already noted, I have to take my leave."

Madge watched him enter his carriage and close it again. The whole time, she had not seen his face, but in fact she did not need to in order to guess the heartbreak he would feel over the betrayal of the one he loved.

But it was not like that, Charles mused. Anne was not his. She had never been, never wanted to and he almost mused, never would be. She would and had never belonged to anyone.

No, that was not true, either.

She had once willingly let Henry possess her in a manner that he suspected she would never let herself be possessed again. Nor would it be possible.

* * *

_Sometimes we must get hurt in order to grow; we must fail in order to know. Sometimes our vision only clears after our eyes are washed away with tears._


End file.
